Touch
by NoPenNoInk
Summary: Loki came to Earth to destroy and conquer. The problem? A mortal named Lucy, who doesn't seem to be as human as she looks.
1. Chapter 1

Midgard was just as filthy as his research had claimed it to be. The grubby air, even in the natural forests, weighed heavy on him, a layer of grim coated him from toe to head. His delicately handsome face was pressed against the ground. Even the dirt smelled quite unpleasant.

However, the supposed wintry winds seemed almost fragile to him. The cold was nothing as it was back in Asgard. In fact, the cold seemed to welcome Loki, lifted his rather dull and crushed spirit. The lulled winds brought back the color to his shockingly pale face and reminded him he was alive despite that fact that he felt quite dead. His normally sparkling green eyes seemed rather dull and disheartened. He began to sulk with self pity as he came to terms with his current imprisonment.

Midgard, for all intensive purposes, was worse than Nifflheim.

Loki continued to remain in his state of self pity when he realized he could not seem to even summon the strength to move. He could not even conjure himself into a smaller being so he could channel his energy into relocating himself. He had considered this possibility whilst in Bifrost. But he had shaken off the likelihood and focused on his plan for redemption.

Surely, being strewn on the ground was not part of this plan. Loki came to terms with the fact he would have to remain in Midgard in this very position if he wished to regain his strength. In a few days time, he would be restored and ready to wreak his vengeance. His soul smoldered with frustration as he lamented over his situation. He wanted to ruin Odin with every fiber of his godly being. He wanted his family to plead for salvation, only to bring upon them his swift vengeance crashing over their foolish heads. Oh, how the sound of their pleads sent a bubble of joy from his chest and out his smirked mouth. He wanted so badly to spring into action – but he knew he must be patient.

The soft flakes of icy snow began to coat him like a pure, elegant blanket. The flakes fell around him, grazed his cheeks, and spotted his godly attire.

Oh, what a way to bury a prince.

She was plunging down the endless, dark pit with no end in sight. She scrambled to grab a ledge or a jutted rock to grab hold onto. Her fingers slipped over countless rocks, but she could not seem to get a grip on any of them. Her arms, legs, and tender torso were ripped apart as she wildly swung her arms about, desperate to stop falling through the terrible pit.

Well, she thought it was a pit.

All that really concerned her was that she was falling with no end in sight. She dreamt of this falling ever night, but she would never reach the ground. She would wake up at the sound of her buzzing alarm without concluding the dream. And as odd as it sounded, she truly did want to see what was at the bottom of whatever she was falling through. What lay in the dark recesses of her mind that her body was not yet ready to see?

Her body contorted in her small, uncomfortable bed. Her limbs were wrapped in the cotton sheets, tangled in a snake-like fashion. Her entire body was wet with sweat, her face strained. Her muscles contracted with each flail of her arms and legs. She would be overwhelming exhausted when she woke up, more so than usual. This dream was slightly more violent than the others. She felt her body being tossed around more than ever before.

She realized that tonight may be the night that she would reach the bottom of the pit. Where she would finally stop falling.

And just as that thought rang through her head, she felt her body began to slow down, as though she was falling slower than before. She felt as light as a feather, drifting down from the sky. The rushing wind didn't bite at her skin anymore, and arms no longer reached for contact. She felt almost blissful for a moment.

Her raw skin felt the soft ground press against her, cold and supple. Her head rested against a particularly padded part of the ground. Her body came to a complete halt as she landed gracefully. Her entire body felt frail. Slowly, she opened her eyes, realizing they had been closed the entire dream. Her sight was flooded with color and her ears with sound. Cautiously, she glanced without moving an inch.

Snow surrounded her, piling around her body. Above her was the darkened night sky, large trees looming over her. The animals furrowed around her, seeking shelter in the winter storm. She couldn't blame them for evading such a terrible blizzard. She then looked to her right with the same vigilance as before.

About three feet from her very body was a man, halfway buried beneath the snow. His jet black hair was speckled with the white snow. His lips were sewn shut in a thin, frowned line. His face was forlorn and his sinister green eyes simmered with a dull intensity. His hair, black as an ink blot, was slicked back neatly away from his handsome face. He looked completely destitute and it broke her heart.

She gathered ever bit of power she could and slowly, extended her arm. She stretched her fingers as far as possible and tried to use that damned touch of hers for something beneficial. She was inches away from his face. She could almost feel her fingers skim his soft, flawless skin. She shimmied her weak body closer. She was so close she could feel the meager heat roll of his body, dissipating in the snow.

Lucy wanted so badly to caress that gloomy face and perhaps, bring a bit of joy. See his thin, drawn lips pulled into a smile, even if it was a small one. No man that handsome should ever have such a saddening expression. Her heart wrenched at the mere thought of it.

Her alarm woke her suddenly. Lucy's eyes flew open as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. She could feel her heart pounding painfully against her chest. She slowed craned her head to find her arm extended in front of her, just as it had been in the dream. Although she had been sweating, her body felt unusually cold. Slowly, she moved her fingers, pin pricks coursing from the tip of her pinky to her shoulder blade.

She smiled despite the heavy ache that rang throughout her entire body. Her fingers still tingled as they always did, a small shock sitting on the tips. She pressed them together, the tingling ceasing to a small buzz. Lucy then stared at each finger for a while like she always did when they felt like this.

All ten fingers looked absolutely normal. Her hands were small and thin with nails neatly cut but unpainted. She bent each finger with ease and squeezed the flesh, watching it go from stark white to a warm red. The skin was soft and warm to the touch.

They looked perfectly normal. She felt pain when they were pricked, heat when she accidently touched the stove, and cold when she forgot her gloves on her walk to work. They looked, felt, and reacted standard. For all intensive purposes, they were normal.

But Lucy knew they weren't.

Lucy shook her head and exhaled, her lungs savoring the early morning oxygen. Slowly, Lucy crept out of her warm bed and padded over to her apartment balcony. She slid open the glass sliding door and stepped outside onto the warm concrete. The air was warm and thick on her skin, the sun starting to beam from behind the early morning haze. Lucy looked down onto the city, men and women in suits darting from street to street, hurrying to work. She rested her arms on the railing and rested her chin on her arms. She closed her eyes and took in the sounds of the busy city for a few moments.

She couldn't explain why, but she absolutely adored New York City. Lucy knew this was strange, seeing as she was the exact opposite of the typical New Yorker. Lucy was quiet and reserved, and always tried her hardest to never say a false or mean word. She kept to herself, but did have a few good friends that she would often go out to bars with, even though Lucy rarely ever drank. Lucy was always observing, taking things in. She'd much rather listen to the conversation than start it.

But that was what made Lucy so good at her job; if you could even really call it a job. To Lucy, it was more of a hobby she got paid for. It was a knack she had practiced and matured over time.

Lucy opened her eyes again and walked back inside her apartment. She shut the door behind her and padded to the bathroom. Lucy, as always, started a hot shower and waited until the room was encompassed with steam. She stepped into the shower, cringing at the sudden heat. She let her muscles relax in the hot water, and smoothed out some of the muscle sores from her dream from the previous night.

Her eyes lulled closed in the heat of the shower. Once again, she saw the shockingly green eyes, sparkling against the white snow. His lips, thin and drawn downward, and that same, downcast expression that made her heart melt. She kept her eyes shut, recalling every inch of him in her head until the water ran ice cold. She couldn't understand what about him was so alluring, but she didn't really care.

Lucy shut off the water and dried off her entire body with a towel. She walked out of the hot bathroom, a rush of cool air hitting her face. She sprawled out on her bed naked and let her soaking hair drip down her back. She wanted to fall back asleep and see that face one more time. She laughed at her own stupidity – she had a crush on a figment of her subconscious. Lucy reminded herself that he was not real. She had never and would never meet him, unless she was sleeping.

But even that wasn't a definite.

Lucy, still exhausted from her dream last night, started to feel herself drift off again. Her eyes lulled closed, her breathing slowed. She felt the warmth of sleep warm her body, even though the water droplets were cold on her skin. She let herself enjoy the last few seconds of bliss before she felt herself nodding off.

It was such a wonderful feeling of contentment that took over her. She felt her sore muscles go lax, her mind slowed down. She could not recall what she was thinking seconds ago. Her mind was a clouded mess, but a calm one.

The doorbell rang like a shrill alarm clock, waking Lucy. She sprang into urgent action and ripped open her drawers. She grabbed a t-shirt and fitted cargo pants, pulling them over her legs and dancing around the room to pull them around her womanly waist.

"I'm coming!" she shouted as the bell continued to buzz away rapidly. Lucy jogged to the apartment door and peeked through the peep hole.

Her best, and just about only, friend Roxie was leaning against the door. Her makeup, that had obviously been from the night before, was smudged all over her face. Her hair was pulled into a knotty bun, showing off her thin, pretty face. Her skin was pale and dull and her eyes were squinted. Even when she was a train wreck, she still looked beautiful.

Lucy opened the door and Roxie just about collapsed in her arms. Lucy's nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol that radiated from her. She felt her stomach churn with acid at the smell.

"Not again, Roxie," Lucy sighed. She wrapped her arms under Roxie armpits and dragged her to the couch. Lucy placed a pillow under her neck and tilted her head down and away from the couch, in case Roxie vomited. She also grabbed a small garbage can she kept in the bathroom, a glass of water, and two aspirins. Roxie groaned and covered her eyes with her hand.

"I don't wanna throw up," Roxie moaned as she tossed around on the couch. Lucy bit her lip and propped Roxie's head up.

"Just take these pills and drink the water Roxie," Lucy begged. She placed the pills against Roxie's dry, chapped lips. Roxie at first, kept them clamped shut, but eventually gave in. She took two meager sips from the water and gagged a bit. Lucy placed Roxie's head back on the couch.

Roxie's eyes closed shut and her chest began to rise slowly. Lucy crouched next to her, knowing she was going to have to do it. Lucy didn't want to, but she knew she had to. Roxie was badly hung over and Lucy knew she couldn't leave her alone.

Lucy glanced at the clock and realized she would have to depart to work soon. With a deep breath, she placed her hands on the origin of Roxie's problems; her mouth. That is, after all, how she consumed the alcohol. Lucy felt the familiar tingle creep in her fingers and up her arm.

The wave of nausea hit her first. It came over her like a giant wave, sending her stomach into such an awful feeling that she almost had to stop. Her head began to pound with such ferocity Lucy could barely concentrate. She felt her entire body become hot. She felt a drip of sweat roll down the back of her neck as droplets formed over her top lip.

Her fingers began to fizzle, the tingling fading. She knew it was almost over, but she didn't know how much longer it would last. Her jaw ached and her throat grew raw. She could taste alcohol in vomit in her mouth, and her stomach muscles were sore from all the vomiting Roxie must have done. She heard a small sigh escape Roxie's mouth, and she knew she could remove her fingers from her lips.

Lucy collapsed on the floor and her fingers burned as though they were on fire. Her entire body throbbed in pain and she lost her sight. Everything went black, and a heavy ring filled her ears and drowned her senses. She could not longer smell the alcohol that Roxie reeked of.

Lucy was completely helpless.

She wasn't sure why she always lost all ability to do anything whenever she used the power. She assumed it was her body's way of coping with the trauma she had just gone through. Going from perfectly normal to absolutely hung over probably sent every nerve in her body into a frenzy. She thought of it almost as her body shutting down, wiping out whatever feelings she had just absorbed and returning her to normal.

The ring in her ears subsided, and slowly, her sense of smell returned. Lucy didn't move from the floor until she gained back her vision. Even when she was able to see again, she was forced to keep her eyes shut for a while due to her sensitivity to the light.

Slowly, Lucy stood up and looked at Roxie. She had fallen into a deep sleep as she always did after Lucy used her power. It was a minor side effect and Lucy guessed it was similar to how she would collapse every time she used her power. Roxie's body probably freaked at the sudden change of balance and needed to rest.

Lucy splashed cold water in her face and put her hair up in a neat bun. She grabbed her bag, filled with her work utensils and jotted down a note for Roxie, letting her know where Lucy was and how she could reach her. She set aside cereal in a bowl and the milk for when Roxie woke up. Lucy knew from experience Roxie always ate cereal after a bad hangover.

Lucy then took one last look at Roxie and left her apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki's eyes opened as sun streamed through the foliage of winter. The trees were rather bare, with the exception of the towering pine trees that were roughly the size of a frost giant. The snow had ceased, and had only slightly covered him. Flakes spotted his rather extravagant outfit from head to toe.

Although covered in snow, he cheek felt warm in one particular spot, as if someone had just touched him. With painstaking slowness, Loki raised his shaking arm to his face. He touched his cheek to find it even felt warm.

_Odd_ Loki thought as he remained still in the snow. He didn't quite understand the way he felt. It was almost as though a delicate hand had wiped the snow from his face, like he would imagine a loving mother would.

Loki didn't know how long he had been strewn on the ground for. He had lost consciousness not long after he had fallen in the deserted forest. He wasn't sure if it had been a few hours or a few days. He did know, however, that he was still too weak to move. He had control over his arms, but they still shook with weakness and pain. His thoughts seemed to be much more coherent than previously. He no longer thought in broken memories, and instead could clearly assess his situation.

It would be a few more days before he would have control over his powers again. He would have to slowly return to his normal habits, in order not avoid ending up like the mess he was. When he was able to relocate, he would head toward the Tesseract.

Loki knew he had to be extremely inconspicuous. There would be no sudden seizure of the cube. No, he would have to slowly assimilate and remain under the radar. Perhaps he would find himself living quarters and establish a bit of a base for himself. He would analyze the habits of the mortals that occupied Midgard in order to use their weaknesses to drive them to obedience. It wouldn't be too difficult, since they seemed to be rather mindless. And not only mindless, but wholly ignorant.

Gaining control of the measly landmass wouldn't be the difficult part. Remaining anonymous would be the challenge. Loki knew Thor, that damned brute, was walking freely on Midgard. Although not one for intelligence, Thor would be able to sense him in a second. And if Thor recognized him, Loki knew those _dogs_ would soon be behind him.

The very thought of that sad group of unfortunate souls angered Loki. If it weren't for them, Loki's plan would have been rather simple. He shrugged off the small roadblock and decided that if they must be destroyed, he would do so…swiftly.

Loki could hear the screams and pleas for mercy. He could taste the power as it pulsated through his veins. There was something so absolutely delicious about getting what he deserved. He became ravenous for his revenge. To see the faces of those who had disowned him. To make them kneel right before him, claim him as their one, true king. All those poor souls needed to be controlled. They needed to be saved from their own demise.

And Loki was just the one to do it.

Lucy unlocked the door to the small flat. It wasn't much of an apartment, but it was a hell of a studio. Much of the apartment was windows that overlooked the picturesque New York skyline. Unfortunately, most of it was whitewashed from the snow storm that had blanketed the city the previous night. What wasn't white was a slushy grey. She loved the city, but hated winter. It was so cold, so unforgiving. She wished for the warmth of summer, when she could walk on the patio barefoot and sip on fresh lemonade, the warm breeze drifting through the studio apartment. She could practically smell the street vendors and hear the sound of children and young couples.

Lucy sighed and turned up the heat. She slipped off her boots and let her toes wiggle free in her warm socks. She carefully set her newest portrait on the large easel and walked back. She squinted her eyes and took in the finished product. It was just as how she had imagined, and had a fairly good resemblance to the picture the man had given her.

Lucy looked at every inch with a meticulous eye and checked for any spots that needed fixing up. She did not see any imperfections and dipped the tip of the brush in the black paint. In the right corner, she signed her signature in an elegant, small script. She simply signed the painting "Luc" and placed the brush down on the lip of the easel.

She expected her client to show up in about ten minutes. With careful fingers, she lifted the canvas and placed it against the wall. Lucy crept over to the closet and picked out a bare, white canvas. She placed the canvas on the easel and closed her eyes.

She could see his face quite clearly in her mind as though it was committed to memory. She picked up a pencil and sketched out exactly what she saw in light pencil marks. It was just the outline of his face, exactly as she saw it. She paused with heisitation and took a step back to look at the beginning of her handiwork.

The face was thin and delicate just as she had envisioned. The cheekbones were sharp as razors and had the hollow quality she admired. She decided to get rid of the ridiculous helmet he was wearing. It looked far too foolish and ridiculous. She didn't like the way it looked on him. It gave him such a proud and snarky attitude. So, she roughly sketched the outline of what she thought his inkblot hair looked like. She drew neat, slicked back strands that grew wild around his neck.

All the while she had sketched, she felt a tingle grow in her chest. The same tingle she got when someone watched her paint or draw. It was a feeling of modesty, of slight embarrassment. She didn't like the sensation of being watched. She felt conscious of every movement she made, from the blink of her dark eyes, to the flick of her wrist. It was an addicting sensation, even though she felt quite uneasy.

Next, she began the corners of his downward mouth. His lips had been thin, but perfectly shaped. His mouth was elegant in the way the lips were poised on his mouth. Although slightly dishelved, he had given off a sophisticated aura. Lucy slowly draped one lip over the other in the scowl they had been in. Once again, she had stepped back and checked her sketch.

She continued similarly with the nose, which had been perfectly straight and long. Lucy had always admired men with larger noses. It added personality to a face.

Lucy paused again and her heart dropped. The next feature, his eyes, were going to be much more frustrating than the others had been. The eyes made the face. Emotion, Lucy believed, was portrayed most by the eyes. The profound sadness she had seen in them seemed almost impossible to replicate on a piece of canvas. How could a bit of graphite speak the volumes his expression had? There was something so raw, so painful in the way he looked. Lucy swallowed her nervousness and placed the tip of the pencil against the canvas.

She shut her eyes and recalled the most painful memory she could.

She heard the scream of her mother. The metal bent and the smell of burnt rubber. She felt her head crack on the wet pavement. Heard her brother beg for something, for mercy. Saw her father look straight at her, unblinking, unmoving.

Her hand began to move on its own, directly connected to her consciousness. Suddenly, the sadness, the disappoint felt achievable. Yes, she had been there, just like he had. She had felt the pain, she had known the misery.

The bell chimed and Lucy snapped out of her trance. She dropped the pencil and walked to the door. She peeked through the peephole and saw it was her client. She opened the door and welcomed him in.

Mr. Meyers was a slightly older man, perhaps in his fifties. Lucy knew the minute she met him he was very well off. It was clear in is countenance and in the way he dressed. He was always dressed in slacks and a collared shirt and tie. His grayed hair was always combed back neatly and his facial hair was well kept.

Mr. Meyers came to Lucy to paint a picture of his deceased wife, Lizzie. He had told her he had a new one painted every year and hung the portrait in his living room. He had seen a bit of Lucy's work in a small gallery last year, and knew immediately he had to have a piece of hers. It was the emotion in her work that caught his eye and his heart.

"Good morning Lucy! How's everything?" Mr. Meyers asked, a jolly smile on his face. Lucy returned the smile and carefully lifted the canvas off the ground.

It was quite a large painting, just about the same height as Lucy. It was an ambitious portrait, one that had taken her two months of hard work for hours and hours on end. But Lucy hadn't minded; Mrs. Meyers was a very beautiful woman and the picture was truly beautiful. Mrs. Meyers had been laughing in the picture, a hearty laugh with her mouth agape and her eyes sparkling. Her hair was soft and blonde and wrapped around her round face in supple curls. Her round cheeks were rosy and pink, her lips red and large. Mrs. Meyers eyes were small but warm, like two little chocolate candies. Lucy had enjoyed every painstaking stroke that went into the portrait.

Lucy held the portrait toward her. She felt her heart speed up. In the back of her mind, she began to wonder if it was good enough. Suddenly, she wanted to rip it up and chuck it in the fireplace.

"Everything's fantastic," she responded, slightly delayed.

"Well let us have a look," Mr. Meyers grinned. Lucy inhaled sharply and turned the canvas around, her eyes squinted shut.

Lucy heard only her own heart beat. The room was plagued with silence.

_Oh God, he hates it,_ Lucy thought. Begrudgingly, she opened her eyes.

Mr. Meyers' mouth was slightly agape, his hand placed on his chin. Lucy noticed his eyes seemed a bit wet and sparkled in the light of her apartment.

"My God Lucy," he gasped. "She's beautiful," he smiled.

Lucy's heart leapt with joy. She felt her happiness bubble over and threaten to escape her lips in pure ecstasy. Mr. Meyers took a step closer and ran his fingers over the canvas.

"You caught her Lucy, you really did," he told her as he looked with a saddened expression. "I've had twenty one portraits of my Lizzie painted. All were beautiful and remarkable in different ways. But this one…this one is different. It's like you bottled her up in one of those little jars of paint, Lucy," he whispered, tears welled in his eyes. "It's my Lizzie."

Lucy could feel her tears sting the back of her eyes. What she had witnessed was much more beautiful than what she had replicated. The true talent wasn't her ability in recreation – no it was the scene itself, the reality behind the painting. That, to Lucy, was art. She hadn't created anything beautiful, no she had duplicated it.

Mr. Meyers carefully placed the portrait in a portfolio case and zipped it up. He pulled a checkbook out of his pocket and quickly wrote out Lucy's payment. With a swift rip, he handed Lucy the check and wiped a tear about to spill.

Lucy glanced quickly at the check and frowned at the price.

"But this is far more than the price we settled on…" Lucy trailed off. It was well over a thousand dollars more than she had been commissioned for.

"Lucy, I came to you for a portrait. You gave me something more. You gave me a memory, and that is worth more than anything. So, consider the extra money a small sign of…gratitude," Mr. Meyers told her. "Goodbye, and thank you Lucy."

Mr. Meyers left the studio and left Lucy to wallow in silence. Her heart wrenched at the thought of Mr. Meyers sitting by his fireplace that night, with a bit of scotch and his portrait. He would stare at that portrait and think of happier times, when Lizzie was alive and he was in love. It only reminded her of how she would be doing something similar, except in front of her television. That, and she had no one to reminisce about. No, she would spend the night alone, both physically and emotionally.

She wished she could've had the equivalent to Mr. Meyers' Lizzie, but she knew that wasn't possible. Her hands deceived her, ruined her. How could she love someone if she couldn't bear to touch them? But this was the life she was given, and there was nothing to be done about it.

Lucy stood still for a bit before she shut the lights of the studio off, locked the door, and headed home. She didn't dare steal a glance at her newest project. She couldn't deal with the disappointment she knew she would see, not only in her skill, but in his expression.


	3. Chapter 3

Lucy held the key in her hand. She paused at her own front door, her small briefcase grasped in her hand. She shook her head and scattered the stupid, mindless thoughts that were stuck in her mind.

She slipped the key in and turned the knob. Slowly, she opened the door and peered into the living room.

Roxie sat cross-legged on the sofa, a bowl of cereal clutched in her hands. Slowly, she spooned the little honey o's into her mouth.

Lucy crept in the living room quietly, as though she was sneaking into someone else's apartment. Roxie lifted her head, but remained silent. Her eyes were bloodshot and tired. Dark bags hung under her light eyes. Lucy noticed her hair was damp and the makeup was washed off her face.

_Good, she showered,_ Lucy though, happy Roxie had made herself at home as usual.

Even though Roxie was a burden, Lucy cared about her. It worried Lucy to see Roxie on such a slippery slope of destruction. Lucy had tried hundreds of times to convince her to slow down and stop her alcoholic endeavors, but Roxie could not be persuaded. So, Lucy vowed to be there when Roxie needed her. Although three years younger than her, Lucy was more much responsible than Roxie, who had a habit of drinking and ending up in various beds around New York.

"Hey Rox, how you feeling?" Lucy asked as she placed her briefcase of paints and brushes on the table.

Roxie shrugged and pushed a golden blonde lock out of her face. She swallowed a mouthful of cereal and placed the bowl on the floor, next to the sofa.

"Good, you seemed pretty…bad this morning," Lucy said as she sat next to Roxie. "Roxie, you shouldn't keep doing this-"

"Lucy, why don't you come to a bar with me tonight," Roxie proposed. She pulled her golden hair in a pony tail and stared at Lucy with her clear, blue eyes. Lucy felt her stomach turn in nervousness.

"I'm not so sure Roxie. I kinda have something to do," Lucy said apologetically. She folded her hands together and tucked them between her thighs. She stared at the floor and tried to conceal the half lie she had made. But Roxie wasn't stupid, and could easily see right through Lucy.

"Spending hours on end in that morbid hospital won't help him Lucy," Roxie said, her statement blunt.

Lucy's face grew hot with embarrassment. She didn't lift her head and continued to stare at the floorboards. She knew that her trip to the hospital was foolish, but Lucy couldn't just leave him there, all alone. She didn't want to abandon him.

"Come on Luce. If you're there, I won't drink as much."

Lucy sighed and gave in. She felt bad refusing Roxie again. Lucy knew Roxie needed her and Lucy would be a horrible friend if she didn't go. She felt guilty leaving Roxie alone all night, and knew she would show up at the doorstep if she didn't go to the bar with her.

"Okay Roxie. But only for a little, and I'm not drinking," Lucy told her. She put on her best impression of someone being stern. Roxie saw through that too, and cracked a smile.

"Fine, but you better dress up. There's someone you have just gotta meet," Roxie told her. She placed her hand on Lucy's arm and gave it a squeeze. "He's really handsome," Roxie winked. Lucy shook her head and rolled her eyes. Roxie's attempts of convincing Lucy to date never worked.

"You know that I'm not into the dating scene," Lucy reminded her.

Though Lucy wished she was, or rather, wished she was able to be. But she had too many secrets to keep, and knew she could never be in a stable relationship if it was based only on lies. She couldn't dedicate herself to someone when she could barely stop lying to herself.

"Trust me, when you meet him, you'll forget all about that," Roxie confided. "Oh crap, I gotta go feed Lucky. But meet me at Barney's around eight, and dress like…a girl," Roxie instructed her. Lucy glanced down at her current outfit; a pair of form fitting cargo pants, a Nirvana t-shirt and winter boots. Not the most feminine outfit, but the most comfortable for Lucy.

"I'll try," Lucy promised as she walked Roxie out the door.

Lucy laughed to herself and slipped off her boots. She turned down the head a bit and dove onto her bed. She buried her face in the pillow and snaked under her blankets.

She had been quite tired all day, and she still had mysterious muscle aches on her back and arms. She sprawled out her legs and stretched the tender muscles. Her fingers pulsed a bit and felt warm to the touch. She felt herself begin to drift again, the warmth of the blankets lulling her to sleep. She sighed right before her eyes closed.

She was strewn on the ground again, just as in the previous dream. Snow surrounded her, and padded her fall onto the ground. The sun was falling below the desolate forest; a streaky and dismal sunset encompassed the sky. Lucy knew instantly where she was, and turned her head quickly.

He was lying right beside her, closer than before. His head was turned toward her, his face peaceful. His beautiful green eyes were concealed behind closed lids. His lips were slightly agape and exposed a set of sparkling white, sharp teeth.

Lucy felt panic take over her. Quickly, she sprung up and looked over his still body.

He lengthy body was perfectly still, his legs straight and flexed. His arms hung at his sides, long and muscular, even under the layers of the ridiculous outfit he was wearing. He wore what looked to be a breastplate of gold armor and a long, green cape under him. His golden helmet was adorned with two long horns, curved toward the sky. His thin, pale face was childlike in its current state and looked almost…kind.

_He can't be dead!_ Lucy thought. Without any hesitation, she pressed an open hand to his chest plate. She didn't care what the consequences were, the pain she might have had to go through. She couldn't let his heart stop. She didn't understand why she felt it to be a necessity, but she did it.

She put every ounce of life she could in that hand. She brought the power from every inch she her small body could summon. She needed him to live, even though he was only a dream, a figment of her imagination.

At first, she felt nothing. All she heard was a slight buzz in her ears. The entire forest fell silent. The birds stopped their chirps, the wind came to a fatal stop. The sun stopped its descent and the moon hung in the balance. And then, like an explosion, Lucy felt the rush of emotions encompass her entire body.

It was pain she had never felt before. Her entire body began to pulsate with heat; her blood ran faster and hotter through her veins. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, burning her from the inside out. She had never felt pain quite like it, and began to feel her body losing consciousness. Her head grew light and airy. Her nerves became numb and her heart slowed its beats.

But her hand was still scorched.

And just when she had thought the worst had come and gone, and that she had finally reached the calm, something else took over her senses;

Rage.

The hate, the anger, the disappointment consumed her. Her mind began to fire off commands to the rest of her body, but her soul resisted. Her teeth ground together, her mouth beginning to fill with blood. She felt an all-consuming hatred fill her heart to the brim.

They had left her all alone. They had forced her out of childhood and into adulthood. She was the one that was left to take care of all the issues they had left behind. She was the one that had to stand the looks of pity, all alone.

"No," Lucy gasped. Her breathing was labored, her entire body racked with pain. She couldn't stand it anymore, she had to let go. Lucy withdrew her hand and sunk to the ground. Her heart stopped for an instant and her body fell into the stupor it always did whenever she used her power. Her ears filled with the ring, her sight went black, and she felt nothing.

Loki awoke with a sudden burst. His chest felt odd; like a little bird was inside it, fluttering around. His head felt light and clear, his body no long weighed down by the filthy air. He blinked his clear, green eyes and slowly sat up.

He wasn't entirely sure how, or why, but his power came fleeting back to him. His body stung with power and magic. He slowly stretched out every inch of his body before standing once again. He felt light on his feet and swift like the wind. He didn't understand why his power had returned to him so suddenly, but he thought it best not to question it and continue his quest for the tesseract.

First, Loki changed into a simple dark grey suit and tie, along with a green scarf and a black overcoat. He left himself get used to the ridiculous outfits mortals insisted on wearing. Loki would never understand why they dressed so informally and plainly at all times. He thought the outlandish outfits were not only homely, but weak. They provided no protection from any warrior, not to mention the mild weather.

Next, Loki fixed any bumps and bruises he may have accumulated and restored his flawless alabaster complexion. He was aware of his charming good looks and knew he had to keep them in his arsenal in case he needed to seduce the foolish and flimsy mortals. Mortal women were so stupid, so easy to convince. It was almost too easy for Loki, and only provided entertainment for a very insignificant period of time. It was actually quite hilarious to watch mortals flaunt and flirt as though they were attractive in any way. Loki found the women of Asgard much more beautiful than any woman on the filth that was Midgard.

With a mischievous grin, Loki transported himself to the crowded, grimy city that hid the tesseract. He could feel the power brimming underneath the city, ready to be unearthed. He ended up in a dark alley not too far from a small bar. He staggered a bit, and felt his power wade away. He teetered against the brick wall and tried to regain a bit of strength by remaining still.

Lucy sprung up from her sleep, her mouth filled with blood. She darted to the bathroom and hunched over the sink and spat out the blood. She grasped onto the counter, her legs feeling weak. Her head spun with confusion and the light burnt her eyes. She gasped and caught her breath, her chest aching.

Her mouth was filling with blood again. She poked and prodded and found she had a large gash on the inside of her cheek. She pressed her tongue against the laceration and tried to clot the bleeding.

Lucy looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was in a giant knot, loose hairs hanging around in her face. Her entire body was covered in sweat, and she had a red mark on her cheek where she must've hit herself. Her eyes looked tired and dull, and dark bags had formed, making her overall appearance look worse.

She then glanced down at her fingers. Small bruises formed on the tips of each finger, the skin purple and grotesque shades of yellow. She touched the fingertips and winced at the sudden spark of pain.

_This doesn't make any sense…it was a dream!_ Lucy thought hysterically.

Lucy felt tears sting the corners of her eyes. She didn't understand why this happened to her, and why only now her dreams actually caused her harm. She didn't know how to stop it from happening again.

_It's that man in my dream. This all began after I started dreaming of him,_ Lucy concluded.

But that was the problem. Lucy didn't want to stop dreaming about him. He was so beautiful and interesting that Lucy didn't want to lose him. He was what she looked forward to at the end of a long day. But, most importantly, he needed Lucy's help. He had practically been dead when Lucy saw him in her dream.

"What am I thinking? He's in my damn dreams!" Lucy shouted. Why was she being so foolish? This was something children did; rationalize their dreams.

Lucy jumped at the ring of her cellphone. She scampered out of the bathroom and grabbed the mobile device. She answered it without looking at the caller id.

"Lucy where the hell are you? Its 8:15 and you're still not here yet!" Roxie yelled. Lucy glanced at the clock and her heart dropped.

"I'll be there soon, I promise," Lucy said and quickly ended the call. Lucy ran into the bathroom and started the shower. As the water heated up, she grabbed a pink lace top and a white blazer. She then picked out her nicest pair of jeans and black heels. Roxie would kill her if she didn't look decent.

Lucy jumped into the shower and quickly washed her hair and body. She didn't bother with conditioner or any fancy body wash. She then towel dried herself and applied makeup to the bags under her eyes and the red mark on her cheek. She then put on mascara, cursing at herself whenever it got on her eyelid. She let her hair fall in waves around her shoulders and got dressed without looking in the mirror. She grabbed a yellow clutch and ran out the door.

Lucy kept up a jog as she sauntered down the streets of New York. She glanced at her watch and began to jog a little faster in her platform heels.

"Roxie's gonna kill me!" Lucy exclaimed.

Loki saw a shadow speed past him, out on the sidewalk. And just like before, in the forest, he felt that odd sensation in his chest. He crept out of the alley and looked down the street.

A small mortal woman was running down the block at full speed. Loki couldn't explain it, but he felt his heart tug in his chest at the sight of her. He could feel her power, even as the distance between them grew. A silver aura surrounded her, and Loki could smell something sweet as he focused on her.

_What a peculiar mortal_ Loki pondered as he glided down the street. He grew closer to her, even as she ran. He moved like a slippery snake through the forest, following his prey. He needed to see this foolish woman and find out what made her so different from every other meaningless soul on the disgusting landmass. Perhaps she would prove to be some worth to him.

Loki was fast, but she was still a decent distance away from him. The sidewalk came to a breach, but the foolish woman did not stop. She sped out into the street without a care that a truck was barreling down her path.

What Loki did was unexplainable. How he moved so fast was unbelievable. Even he was quite confused as to why he did what he did, but he figured it was merely reflex. After all, he was the powerful God of Mischief.

And if it had been any other mortal, he would have been delighted to see their body contorted and twisted and scoff at how absolutely useless they really were. How insignificant their bag of blood, bones, and water really was. He would laugh at their weak bodies and remind himself of that when he took his rightful place on the throne.

Without a moment's heisitation, Loki tackled the stupid woman to the ground and out of the path of the speeding truck.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this chapter is a little short, but it is important! Anyway, I just want to say thank you all so much for the alerts and the reviews. I never expected this story to go so well, and I'm so thrilled it is! **

**I felt like Loki was, and is, a little too soft in this story so far, so I will have to "rough" him up a bit. Don't worry though, he's still just a distressed softie deep down!**

* * *

All Lucy saw was light before she was struck to the ground. She felt pressure on her small body, but didn't want to move. Her small clutch was not longer in her hand, and she was pretty sure she hit her head a little too hard. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

At first, all she saw was the night sky, speckled with twinkling little stars. Her arms were outstretched, just like in her dreams.

Slowly, she turned her head.

_Am I dreaming?_ She thought as she looked to her right. Because there, just like in every dream she had, was the man with beautiful emerald eyes, lying right beside her.

Lucy clamped her eyes shut, and gathered her muddled thoughts together. How could a man in her dreams be in real life? Better yet, how could he save her life?

When Lucy reopened her eyes, she expected to find him again, lying right beside her.

But there was no one.

* * *

Loki had realized the consequences of his actions the moment his body splayed out on the cold concrete. Meeting the mortal this way would only lead to a sense of attachment. He couldn't make another mistake. He needed to do research on this mysterious mortal, and why she had some tug on his soul.

Loki was never one for split second decisions or spontaneity. Such frivolities often led to mistakes. And mistakes were one thing Loki could not afford. No, every action from here on had to be calculated. Every decision had to be weighed for consequences. There could not be any mishaps.

Loki cringed at the mere thought of failure.

So, when the mortal woman closed her eyes, Loki quickly dissipated like the cold winter wind. He would survey the human for a while before he made distinct contact with her. Every word had to be thought out, every move predetermined.

Loki quickly moved to the shadows and watched the woman slowly sit up and glance around. Blood began to run down the side of her face from a cut on her scalp. With a simple twitch, Loki sent the truck driver to her side. He kneeled down and apologized and dialed an ambulance. Although it was an annoyance, Loki knew he had to keep this woman alive. He had an odd feeling she had something to do with his recovery. He didn't know how, but he had felt that fluttery feeling in his chest when he was close to her, just as he did when he had woke up.

Loki knew this woman would be a burden. He could tell she was clumsy and probably imprudent as she had ran out into the street without a care. Didn't she realize she was weak? With a simple snap, Loki could kill the idiotic woman. He could break every bone in her body; he could make her suffer in unimaginable ways. He smirked at the very thought of seeing her squirm and beg for mercy. He loved to see those below him struggle for power.

The woman turned her head wildly; her large, dark eyes scanned the entire city. Her small, birdish face contorted into a frown and the blood began to pour with a new found ferocity.

And with every glance, Loki swore she was looking right at him.

* * *

_Where is he?_ Lucy thought hysterically. _He was just here!_

Lucy remained glued to the ground and searched for any sign of him. A scrap of clothing, a bit of blood. He must've left some kind of proof that he had been there – that he had saved Lucy just like she had once saved him.

Lucy didn't quite understand the next few hours. Lights and sirens blasted and blinded her. She was poked and prodded with needles as well as questions. She was forced to lay down on a stretcher and the paramedics asked her tons of confusing questions.

Lucy didn't know the time, and she didn't care. She didn't know what day it was, and she certainly didn't see the truck that almost killed her. The paramedics told her she was concussed, and must not sleep for hours on end. They asked her if she had any friends she could stay with, but Lucy could only think of one name: Roxie.

Surprisingly enough, Roxie wasn't drunk. In fact, she seemed to be rather coherent and sober. And for once, Roxie took Lucy home, cleaned her up, and made sure she didn't sleep for more than two hours. For the first time, Roxie was wracked with fear.

Only Roxie couldn't take away Lucy's pain.

That had been the worst night of Lucy's night. When she drifted off to sleep, she would see the face of that man. Just as he was about to talk, Roxie would shake her awake once again, try to get her to eat something, and attempt to keep Lucy awake.

It wasn't until the sun began to rise that Lucy became coherent. Lucy no longer wanted to sleep, and instead, insisted on being taken to her studio. She had business that needed attending to.

"It's four in the morning Lucy," Roxie groaned as Lucy changed into pants and a t-shirt. Lucy ignored Roxie and grabbed a jacket and scarf. She then walked to the front door, slipped on her boots, and let the apartment with only her briefcase in hand.

Loki watched her all night. He watched her toss and turn, watched her companion wake her, force sustenance down her throat, and send her back to a restless sleep. He watched his little bird cry out and yell for someone, but he did nothing.

_Little bird…a suiting title,_ Loki thought and grinned with satisfaction. It did suit her wonderfully; she had a small, bird-like face and tiny stature. She was just as delicate as a small songbird as well.

And he would cage her like one too.

Loki watched her every move as she left the apartment. She moved quite clumsily and at an awkward gait. Her expression was grim and she looked as though she had just tangled with a fearsome beast. Loki didn't understand how a mess of a being could hold such power over him…she wasn't worthy of the effect she had on him.

She wasn't particularly attractive. She wasn't tall and lithe, and instead a bit short and squat. Her face was pleasant enough, with round, rosy cheeks dotted with light freckles over the bridge of her small, but bent nose. Her nose was a bit misshapen, but suited her birdish features. Her eyes were large and dark, like a little songbird's, and her lips were red and curved perpetually upward, even when she was in obvious distress. Her short, brown hair was tied back away from her face in a mess of knots.

She was far from being strong, and Loki noticed she looked particularly soft and weak. Her body was curvaceous, but she was not large…no, she had the subtle hint of womanly hips and bust even under the baggy layers of mortal clothing she donned but she was still very petite.

The thought of having her in his power excited Loki. He could take the chaste, little bird and make her into something truly great. A real asset to his already immense power.

She walked a good eight blocks until she approached a large, white building on the quite side of town. She unlocked the front door with a key and entered the building. Loki watched silently as a light went off on the third floor of the building.

* * *

Lucy kicked off her warm boots and removed the light jacket as well as her sunglasses. She looked at her reflection and cringed.

An ugly, blue bruise had formed right below her eye and a laceration was visible right next to her scalp. Roxie wasn't kidding when she said Lucy "looked like Hell".

Lack of sleep also had a bit to do with Lucy's dishelved appearance.

She rubbed her unbruised eye and zipped open her briefcase. Inside were dozens of paint brushes lined up in an orderly fashion, from smallest to largest. She also had immense tubes of paint, both new and used, ready to be utilized. From the briefcase, she plucked out the thinnest brush and the green, white, and blue paint. She also ripped a piece of cardboard from her growing collection as a pallet.

Slowly, she untwisted the caps and squeezed only a dot of paint on the pallet. She closed her tired, weary eyes and pictured the green, sparkling ones. Such color, such vitality in those pupils it almost made Lucy doubt she could even make such a color. But, she spent the next hour mixing and remixing, until she attained the perfect emerald green she had been wishing for.

With the smallest brush, only a few hairs on the end, she slowly drew every streak of color in the iris. Lovingly, with her small, warm hands she put every ounce of effort she had into the two gems. He may plague her dreams, but he saved her. She just knew it.

It made absolutely no sense. He was only in her mind, but she knew she saw him, knew she felt someone push her out of the way of that truck. He had been so close, she could've touched him, and she regretted she didn't seize the opportunity. She couldn't explain it, but she felt the heaviness in her chest that told her that he was real, and he was close.

She was right.

* * *

Loki watched the small woman in the studio for all ten hours she spent working. Her hands were small and soft, but they were strong from all the work she used them for. She spent the entire day in front of the large piece of canvas. Loki could not see what she was creating, but he guessed it was important to her.

_So she follows the pursuits of the heart, not of the mind,_ Loki thought. He kept that observation in his mind and decided he would need such information for when he seduced her to follow in his path. To fortify his strength when it was needed.

It was then when Loki had a deliciously evil thought. If the poor girl could give power, could she also take it away? Yes, it must be perfectly possible to do such a wondrous thing.

He could breed her into an invincible foe. But, he needed to give her reason to never bring her power and wrath upon him. He needed to give her justification for her destruction as well. He could tell by her calm, loving demeanor that she had never done a singularly mean thing with intent for evil. She was naïve, she was ignorant.

She was perfect for the job.

Loki knew from experience, there were two ways to force dedication; fear or love. Perhaps he could manage a bit of both from the poor wretch he saw in front of him.

She was weak, she was lonely, and from what he could tell, she was imprudent. It wouldn't be difficult to gain her trust, it wouldn't be difficult to force love from her heart, and it wouldn't be difficult to knock her around until she was so scared and so in love she would never doubt him. He couldn't have picked a better idiot to trick.

Finally, the studio light flickered off, and Lucy gathered her things and left. Loki watched the girl exit the building and walk down the street. But he didn't follow her; no, he knew where to find her if necessary.

Loki turned from the window and glanced around the horribly furnished apartment he found himself in. The entire apartment was covered in a thin layer of dust anf grim as though only a ghost lived there.

Aside from the bloody cadaver on the floor. Really, he would've tossed the poor lad in a much cleaner and efficient way if he hadn't been so annoying. He felt the need to scream and yell for mercy, and bled all over the wonderfully soft fringe carpet, the only positive of the entire place. Loki checked the closest for clothes belonging to a woman or child, and when he found none, along with only a few contacts in the wretched piece of technology in his pocket, he decided to end the man's life in the way he wanted – bloody and sloppy, without a speck of blood or DNA on Loki's long, loping fingers.

Loki looked at the blue face of the poor mortal man. He had been handsome, but quite rash. Loki picked through the pockets for a bit of identification, and found the name of the weak human to be William Eccleston. Had a ring to it, Loki thought.

Loki pocketed the mortal papers and kept them in his breast pocket. He then disposed the man's body without a bit of guilt in his conscience to be found. The apartment, along with the body, was cleaned and dismantled. Then, Loki refurbished it to his personal tastes.

And then, he waited.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone! Once again, I cannot thank you all enough for all the support you have given me, with alerts and reviews. Seeing both really brighten my day and inspire me to continue this story. I have never been so thankful! I tried to make this a bit longer, since my prom is tomorrow (or should I say today, since I am posting this at 12:40 am) and I probably won't post Thursday night. Regardless, thanks for the millionth time. And yes, for all of those who have been dying for this moment, Lucy and Loki do in fact have a real encounter!

* * *

"Lucy, it's been a week since we've talked…I'm worried. You spend all that time in your studio. You've always been very consumed with your work but this is getting ridiculous. Call me, please."

Lucy groaned and rolled over. She angrily tossed the blankets off the bed and wrangled around once more. Her head was pounding and her eyes felt sore and puffy. She shut them closed and pressed her fingers against her temples to stop the throbbing.

Had it really been a week since she talked to Roxie? It felt like mere hours since she last left her the morning after her near-death experience. She had barely eaten, barely slept since she started painting the man in her dream. It consumed every minute of every day, every thought that entered her mind. She felt almost haunted by him…he waited for her in her dreams.

She would never talk to him or touch him. In every dream, he would be waiting for her at the end of a beautiful hallway. The floor was a beautiful marble, and the walls were lined with exquisite paintings. Lucy could hear music being played softly, perhaps a piano, below her.

He would summon her with a single word. Lucy would walk down the hall, the sound of her soles "clicking" against the solid marble floor. He would look straight at her with his hauntingly handsome face and shocking eyes. She would come so close to him, but she would never reach him. She always woke up before she was within an arm's length.

Lucy was in a funk.

Nonetheless, Lucy rolled out of bed and into the shower. She stood under the freezing water and sloppily washed her hair and body. Truthfully, she could care less about how she looked. It didn't really matter anyway; no one was interested in her. She had not a single person to impress except herself.

Lucy slipped on a baggy shirt and sweatpants and tied her wavy hair in a messy bun. She then went to the kitchen and stared at the half empty jug of milk and cereal. Her stomach grumbled, but she didn't eat. The thought of food made her a bit nauseous.

Lucy felt her head become a bit light. She grabbed the edge of the kitchen chair and braced herself from falling. The entire room was covered in splotches, the color fading from blue to red, like the cheap 3D glasses at the movie theater. Lucy's mouth became dry, her tongue too fat for her mouth. Her headache grew in intensity as she tried to gain back her balance.

Lucy was ashamed of herself. She hadn't let herself get like this since…since The Accident. It had been nine years since then, and yet she found herself in a similar cycle. She had sworn to herself never to let herself fall into such a slump again, but here she was, about to pass out in her own kitchen.

_Goddamn it Lucy, pull it together._

* * *

Loki had watched Lucy go from bad to worse in the course of a few days. Since their accidental meeting, Lucy had stopped eating, rarely slept, and only bathed when she had to. Loki scoffed at her weak mind and almost doubted whether or not she was strong enough to carry out the glorious cause.

_It looks as though I may need to intervene_, Loki thought. He decided he would wait a bit longer and see if the little bird could work herself out of her own grave. He doubted she could, and decided that it was probably better off that way. Loki only wanted the strongest, and if Lucy could not even handle herself, how could she effectively serve him?

The only thing that frustrated Loki was the time he had wasted on her. Yes, without her he would not have the quiet apartment on the simple side of the city. He would not have an identity either.

But most importantly, he would've been dead.

Yet, it seemed as though Loki owed her. And if she did perish, Loki would owe her nothing. The debts would be paid in full the minute her weak heart gave up the fight. He decided he would visit her gravesite only as a token of his gratitude. Nothing more, nothing less.

But, deep inside that heart of ice, a single fiber of Loki hoped she would recover. Not that he would ever admit to such a foolish thought.

Loki sunk into the leather couch and clamped his hands together and dissolved the image of Lucy from the clear, crystal ball. He closed his eyes and allowed his muscles to relax for a moment. He had been watching her nonstop, and he was getting quite bored. All she seemed to do what mope around or go to that waste of a studio. He couldn't even see what it was she was painting.

Loki knew he had to take an affirmative action soon. If he didn't, he might lose her. After all, that friend of hers bothered her every day, begging her to meet some potential suitor. Lucy would give in soon, as she always did. She had some sort of soft spot for that raucous woman and eve seemed to enjoy her company up until recently. Loki knew that if Lucy met this suitor, he would have a lesser chance of winning her heart. He would no longer have an influence on her. He felt his heart burn with jealousy at the thought of her dedication being bound by someone else. As far as Loki was concerned, Lucy was his.

Loki pounded his first on the arm of the sofa and jolted up. He slipped on a wool jacket and scarf and began to pace the floor. He knew Lucy would leave her apartment soon and walk to the studio, as she had every other day the past week. He would wait for her to pass by, and bump into her. From there, he would ask her on a date, or whatever mortals called it. He would seduce her and continually visit her until her dedication was strong. He would take extreme measures if necessary…he would bed her if the circumstances required it. Not that such an act really meant anything to him. Many Norse goddesses had spent a night with Loki, and he was no longer emotionally attached to the idea.

Such emotions didn't matter. There was a prize to be won.

Loki then magicked a few ominous packages and left the apartment. He remained in the alley and stood deathly still until she arrived.

* * *

Lucy cleaned the final brush and tucked it neatly into the soft, padded briefcase. She zipped it closed and tucked it under her arm. Just as she approached the front door, it flung open, almost hitting her in the face.

"First of all, your door is unlocked!" Roxie yelled as she barged in. Roxie panted, her entire face tensed. "And second of all, you are _so_ not going to that damn studio today."

Lucy froze and her face fell. Her eyes scanned the floor and avoided Roxie's razor sharp glare. Suddenly, Lucy became overly aware that her shirt kinda smelled and her hair was a wreck. As she looked at the floor, she also noticed her shoes were on the wrong feet.

"I wasn't going to go-"

"So you just carry around a briefcase for the hell of it now?"

Lucy felt her face grow hot and tears sprout at the corners of her eyes. She sniffeled and wiped her eyes, trying to be inconspicuous. Roxie sighed and wrapped her arms around Lucy.

"You're worrying me. You've lost weight, you don't call me…and no offense, but you kinda reek," Roxie lectured her in a motherly tone.

Lucy was a bit confused at Roxie's sudden role reversal, but accepted her good intentions. For once, Lucy let herself be the victim. For once, she let someone else take the lead. Lucy felt so tired, so destitute, that it felt good to let Roxie hold her for a bit.

"Now why don't you take a nice hot bath, bubbles and all. I'll make you something to eat, do your makeup, and then we'll go out for a few drinks tonight. Just me and you," Roxie consoled.

"Just me and you?" Lucy asked, looking for reassurance. When Roxie didn't answer, Lucy withdrew from the hug. "_Just_ me and you, right Roxie?" she asked again, her voice a little more stern. Roxie squeaked and made an odd face.

"Well, me, you, and that guy I kinda wanted you to meet. Oh please Lucy, I'm begging you! I told him tonight we were going out, and I can't ditch this guy again. He's so incredibly handsome, and just your type. Really sweet, a total gentleman. I can't believe I even met him in a bar. Jesus, he called me a cab, made sure I got to your apartment, and didn't even try anything! Not a single thing, Luce."

Lucy sighed and rubbed her temples. Roxy had been sober the past week, and she really wanted Lucy to meet this mystery man. How bad could it be? All Roxie wanted was Lucy to meet him, not garuntee or anything.

"Okay, fine Roxie. But I am not promising anything!" Lucy caved.

Roxie squealed with joy and pushed Lucy into the bathroom. Roxie turned on the hot water and filled the tub. She also tossed in a bubble bath bar and lit a few candles Lucy had lying around the house.

"I'll go pick out an outfit for you and make you something to eat!" Roxie shouted, a giant grin plastered on her face.

Lucy shut the door and slowly slid off her clothes. She slivered into the tub, and slowly lowered herself into the hot water. Her entire body surged with tingles from the shock of hot water. Lucy sunk lower into the water until everything but her nose was submerged. She let her body, as well as her mind relax. She thought of not a single thing and simply focused on the drips of water that trickled from the faucet. She rewashed her hair and body and remained in the tub until the water grew too cold.

Lucy drained the sink and dried herself off. She wrapped a towel around herself, and took notice that she had dropped a few pounds. She didn't bother to look in the mirror as she combed out her hair.

Lucy walked into her kitchen, still wrapped in a towel. Roxie set a plate in front of her, filled with toast and eggs and a few strawberries. Although hesitant at first, Lucy gorged herself after the first daring bite. Roxie sat across from her, but didn't say a word.

"It's good to see you back to normal, Luce. Don't scare me like that again. You know you're the only person I have in this place."

Lucy drank the glass of water and slumped in the chair. Roxie remained silent for a moment and took a good look at Lucy.

She couldn't lose Lucy. No, Lucy kept her sane in this crazy, crazy world.

"Come on, let's get you ready for tonight."

* * *

Loki sighed and paced up and down the alley. He glanced at the pocket watch that materialized in his pocket. The sun was beginning to set, and darkness was taking over the city. Street lights buzzed and flickered on, and it became a bit colder.

Lucy was late. Too late.

Loki knew she was not coming today. At first, fear overtook him. Had something happened her once again? Had she stormed out in front of another truck, only this time no one saved her? Or perhaps she had sensed him watching her and fled.

No, that was foolish. Too foolish for him to even consider.

Loki magicked his small orb and located Lucy with ease. She was accompanied by Roxie in a small pub somewhere in New York.

"Dammit," Loki spat venomously. He knew that he had to locate Lucy, and fast. Before it was too late…before she met whoever Roxie had persuaded her to meet. Without a moment of hesitation, Loki quickly relocated to an alley next to the pub. He neated himself up and smirked with confidence. But just as he was about to exit the alley, he sensed a shift in the air. He felt a familiar presence.

Slowly, he peeked around the corner.

He almost could not believe what he saw. It was one of those damn avengers. And he could almost bet on it that he was Lucy's date.

* * *

"Maybe he forgot," Lucy said, standing up from the barstool. She pulled down the hem of her plum dress and tossed her purse over her shoulder.

"No way. He's only ten minutes late, Lucy." Roxie scolded her. Roxie grabbed Lucy's arm and pulled her back to the bar. Lucy grumbled and took another sip from the beer she had ordered twenty minutes ago. Lucy's stomach flipped over itself as she tapped her heel against the barstool. She swiveled herself around to the front door.

And her heart stopped for a moment.

There stood a tall, brawny blonde man. His hair was parted neatly to the side, his collared shirt tucked into his pants and belted. He removed a jacket and folded it over his arm and scanned the bar.

"Hey Steve!" Roxie shouted and waved him over. Steve turned and smiled when he saw Roxie. Every step he took, Lucy's heart pounded a bit harder. He really was handsome, and there was something about him that set Lucy off…something not right.

"Roxie, good to see you're okay," Steve smiled. Lucy felt her cheeks heat up at his politeness.

"And this is the elusive Lucy I was talking about," Roxie added, introducing Lucy.

Steve held out his hand graciously and Lucy froze. Should she touch it? Would something…happen.

"Nice to finally meet you, m'am," Steve smiled.

Lucy couldn't help but touch his hand. It was firm, warm, and large. She placed her small, delicate hand in his and relaxed a bit. The only emotion he seemed to be emitting was happiness, perhaps with a bit if shyness. She instantly relaxed a bit.

"Nice to meet you too, Steve," Lucy grinned. Steve sat at the empty barstool next to Lucy, but didn't order any drinks.

"Told ya she was cute, didn't I?" Roxie joked, and slapped Steve on the back. Steve's face turned red and he averted his eyes the floor, avoiding the question. Lucy squeezed the skin on her thigh to remind herself that this was real. She looked up at Steve and smiled.

Roxie nudged Lucy in the back and Lucy sputtered back to life.

"So Steve, what brings you to New York?" Lucy asked, and internally groaned at the lame question.

"Just needed a bit of fresh air, some change," Steve shrugged.

"Fresh air isn't exactly abundant around here," Lucy chuckled. "Unless you're speaking figuratively, of course. Lots of really interesting stuff around here. Music, art-"

"Speaking of art, Lucy is totally gifted. She owns a studio you know," Roxie said, cutting Lucy off to stop her bickering.

"Really? That's awesome," Steve said, with a bit of awkwardness in his tone. Lucy cringed and realized that Steve probably wasn't interested at all.

She, of course, couldn't consider that the awkwardness was not from Steve's disinterest, rather his inability to use modern terms in anything but an uncomfortable way due to his social disconnect. But, what could once expect from a guy who spent seventy years as an icicle?

"I guess so. Maybe you could stop by some time, if you want of course," Lucy proposed. Steve turned pink once again, but smiled that goofy, but charming smile.

"That sounds like fun."

And that's when Lucy felt it. That familiar, ominous, heavy feeling that she experienced in every dream she had of him. Dread filled her stomach and burned her lungs.

"I'm sorry, but would you excuse me for a second? I just need to…answer my phone," Lucy lied. She pulled her phone from her purse and exited the bar.

She inhaled the cold air and closed her eyes. And at that very moment, she felt someone crash into her. Lucy tumbled to the ground, her purse scattering its contents all over the sidewalk.

"I am so terribly sorry, darling."

Lucy's eyes darted open. Before her stood a looming man with long, delicate fingers. She looked up and her eyes met with two forest green gems.

She was going to be sick.

She swallowed down the acid taste and realized the man was trying to help her up. She took his hand and felt a chill run down her spine.

And it wasn't from the wind.

Lucy stood up and wiped her dress clean. The man placed his boxed on the ground and picked up her purse and whatever had been it in. When Lucy looked up, he was staring at her; no, through her, into her.

It was him. It was really, truly him.

"No I am. I was standing around like an idiot," Lucy murmured. Her entire body was shaking with nerves as she tried to remember where she was and what circumstance she was in.

His was tall, much taller than her, and quite lean. He was dressed handsomely in a grey suit and jacket with a red scarf. His hair, dark as the sky, was neatly slicked back off his long, handsome face. Lucy could feel herself blush just by simply looking at his face.

"No, truly, I am at fault. I seemed to have broken your…cell phone," the man said, handing her a warped piece of plastic.

Lucy should have been mad, but the minute she looked at him, her emotions fizzled.

"It's okay. It wasn't important to me or anything," Lucy stuttered.

The man smiled a brilliant smile and apologized once more. Lucy accepted the apology and tossed the purse over her shoulder. Both were at a standstill, unsure of what to say next.

The man scratched the back of his head and smiled coyly.

"I don't do this very often, but I feel awful. Would you want to go out to dinner perhaps? To make up for the phone of course," the man proposed.

Lucy's entire body was on the fritz. Her mind reminded her of all those talks she had been given about talking to strangers. Her brain told her she would be out of her mind for taking up such an offer.

But her heart reminded her she had seen this man in her dreams. He was real, and yet she had convinced herself she had made him up. Her body, her fingers pulsated and tingled.

She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. But it was something…her body was telling her something.

"I-um well…sure," Lucy stuttered. She felt her chest warm up at the thought of seeing him again, this man that had saved her. The man she saw every night in those crazy dreams of hers. "Why do you add…oh that's right, my phone," Lucy chuckled. The man laughed a low, sultry laugh. He pulled a phone from his pocket and Lucy added her number.

"Fantastic. I will call you soon," he promised. The man parted and began to walk down the street.

"Wait!" Lucy shouted. "I never caught your name!"

The man turned once more and grinned. "William. William Eccleston!" He shouted back.

Lucy whispered his name, and loved the way it felt on her tongue.


	6. Chapter 6

Lucy woke up and rolled over on the couch. She had stayed the night at Roxie's, just as they used to when they were younger. Lucy was always afraid of sleeping alone, and on particular nights she would sleep at Roxie's.

But that was years ago. Back when Lucy was only eighteen and left with absolutely nothing except her parents' will. She would often have terrible nightmares and was consoled at the thought of someone else sleeping not too far away.

But Lucy had grown up from then. She learned to deal with her grief and stress through painting, which had always been a therapeutic medium for her. She would spend her restless nights in the studio apartment and inhale the smell of turpentine. Immediately, she felt her muscles relax, and she would be lulled back into a sense of security.

The door to the living room from Roxie's bedroom cracked open and Roxie peered out. When she saw Lucy was awake, she opened the door wider and entered the living room.

"Oh, you're awake already. Thought you would've slept in a little," Roxie said. Lucy shrugged and tossed the blanket off her legs.

Lucy was still exhausted, but she no longer wanted to sleep. She was tired of resting and sleeping and daydreaming. She had spent the better part of a month in a fog because of the man in her dreams.

But now he was real.

Lucy wasn't sure why she saw him in her dreams, but she could only assume it was an extension of her powers. Perhaps her body was trying to tell her something or prepare her for the meeting. Lucy was sure if she had met him on any given day and not have seen him in her dreams, she would've rejected him. She didn't even know him, but she had given him her number, she had said yes to a date.

That wasn't like Lucy. It was reckless, it was impulsive, and it was practically idiotic. And even though Lucy didn't know him, her body did. Her subconscious was trying to tell her something, and Lucy decided it was time to listen.

Because the last time she ignored her subconscious, she lost her entire family.

"You want some coffee?" Roxie asked as she held a hot mug up in the air.

"Sure," Lucy said with a smile. Lucy tied her hair up and walked over the kitchen counter. Roxie placed a mug in front of her, and Lucy took a long gulp. The coffee burned her tongue and slipped down her throat, filling her stomach with warmth.

"So what did you think of Steve last night? Really handsome right?" Roxie gushed as she placed her coffee on the counter.

"Yeah, he was nice," Lucy shrugged.

Lucy did think Steve was very handsome as well as kind. And perhaps if she had not met the man of her dreams, literally, last night, she would have been perfectly interested in Steve.

But no one came close to William. He was intriguing and handsome – the most handsome man she ever laid eyes on. There was a peculiar air around him. He seemed to almost glide through the air as if he were from some other planet entirely.

"Nice? All you have to say is that he was nice? Jesus Lucy, if a God came down and asked you on a date, you'd say 'No thank you.' I swear, you are the most pious fucker I've ever meet," Roxie joked.

Lucy chewed on her lip and looked down. Part of her wanted to tell Roxie, but the other part told her to keep it a secret. Roxie would be shocked if she knew Lucy had opened herself up to a man she didn't know.

Roxie's eyes grew into two small slits. She raised one of her blonde eyebrows and gave Lucy a look.

"You're keeping something from me," Roxie said, with a bit of skepticism in her voice. Lucy shook her head in a panic and took another long sip from her coffee mug.

"Lucy, you better spill right now," Roxie commanded her. "Did you meet someone?" Roxie exclaimed.

Lucy snorted a bit of coffee up and tried not to spit all over the place. Lucy coughed a bit and regained her breath. Sheepishly, she nodded her head.

"And you didn't tell me? What's his name? How old is he? What does he look-"

"His name is William. I'm not sure how old he is, but he really is handsome. He has this dark hair, that's always slicked back, but not in a creepy way. And he's so tall, he looms over me…but the best thing about him is he eyes. They're like this really deep green," Lucy gushed. She blushed just thinking about him.

"And how did you meet this guy?" Roxie asked.

Lucy paused for a second, but quickly came up with a lie.

"He's a client of mine. I'm painting a portrait for him," Lucy lied, her tongue stinging with guilt. But Roxie couldn't know about her dreams.

For as long as Lucy had known her, Roxie had been adamantly against the existence of the supernatural. Roxie hated ghost stories or those shows about psychics. She thought it was a "bunch of crap". So Lucy thought it best to keep her abilities to herself.

"So that's why you were spending so much damn time at the studio! Jeez Luce, you should've told me…" Roxie trailed off. Lucy could see Roxie felt a little upset at Lucy's lack of honesty, which made Lucy feel even more guilty than before.

"I'm sorry Rox, but I wasn't really sure if it was even anything to tell you about," Lucy told her.

That had been partially true. The entire ordeal started with her dreams. Lucy never imagined she'd meet William in real life. She still couldn't wholly believe it.

"Well, what made you sure?" Roxie asked.

"He asked me to go out for dinner," Lucy confided, her face growing hot. Roxie squealed and almost fell off the barstool. Roxie giggled like a girl normally did when she found a bit of good gossip.

The rest of the morning followed suit. Lucy told Roxie every fictional detail about how they met and how he asked her for dinner. She felt absolutely wretched, but knew it was for the better.

Lucy left Roxie's apartment and headed to her own. She showered quickly and changed into a blue shirt and jeans. She slipped on a pair of boot with fur on the inside. Winter was really starting to pick up, and Lucy didn't want to get sick. She pulled a jacket over her arms and grabbed her briefcase. She had a new found inspiration in her painting of William, and needed to paint. Her fingers were itching with anticipation.

Lucy eagerly left the apartment and headed toward the studio.

Loki had been scoping out SHIELD for the better part of a day. He knew he needed a way to infiltrate the headquarters without physically being present. Seldom, mortals would enter and exit the building. But Loki wasn't sure who they were, or what their standing in SHIELD was. He needed someone who had direct contact with information. There was no time to make a mistake.

Loki thought back to the previous night. He had seen with his own eyes one of those "Avengers". Those miserable wretches intent on ruining his plan. Didn't those idiots understand Loki was here to serve a glorious purpose? That without him the Earth would crumble from plagues, from wars…

And even though he had only spotted one, he could bet the rest were hidden throughout the city.

And then Loki thought of Lucy. How he had almost lost her to SHIELD. He was certain if the organization had found out about Lucy, they would be quick to seize her. Even they weren't moronic enough to ignore the possibilities his little bird had. She could be molded into the world's greatest hero, or its biggest threat. She had an uncanny purity in her heart, and the naiveté to blindly trust. She could be tainted just as easily as she could be cleansed. Because how could anything destroy her if she could devoid them of all power? If she could control what they felt - make them feel destitute, powerless, alone. And not only, take away their strength, but absorb it, make it her own…

Conversely, she could give power to whomever she wished. She could extract her own power, or power she had absorbed from other. In other words, she was a vessel of power. Similar to another creation that many beings vied for; the Tesseract.

Her body was a shell for her soul, and that was all. And Loki felt at liberty to treat it in such a way.

If Loki could get his hands on both Lucy and the Tesseract, not a single damned soul could stop him. Loki was also aware that without Lucy, he had a much smaller chance of getting the Tesseract. And so, he would call upon her tonight. He would put on the face of William Eccleston; an honest gentleman intent on making Lucy happy. To please her in any and every way possible. And even though he would grit his teeth the entire duration of the night, he would be reminded of its worth.

Loki was about to give up on his surveillance when a man exited the building. Quickly, many others followed him with an air of urgency. He walked with a sense of pride and an air of importance. Loki grinned with mischief and decided that man would be the one he would infiltrate.

With a swipe of his hand, Loki planted a little seed in the man's head. Whenever he would come near the SHIELD headquarters, Loki would have an exclusive look into whatever he was seeing, and whatever information he came in contact with.

Quickly, it was all coming together. Loki stepped off the roof of the building and began to walk back to the apartment. He felt powerful, looming over all the mortals around him. Soon, he would control each and every one of them, and they didn't even know as they walked right by him. They were blind sheep, and they needed their shepard.

Loki rounded the corner and approached the apartment building. H felt his chest grow warm and light and knew he little bird must be close. Loki turned his head, and just as his soul had told him, there she was, looking down at her open briefcase.

Loki sauntered across the street. Fate truly was on his side today.

"Lucy darling!" Lucy heard. Her head shot up and glanced around.

And then she saw him, jogging across the street toward her. Her entire body iced over with fear, her heart beat with adrenaline. Once again, he had found her in the most random way.

It was almost has though Fate was somehow interfering with their relationship.

William smiled at her brilliantly and glanced down at her briefcase. He then looked up at her, his green eyes brimming with joy. But Lucy could feel his body radiating something else entirely. Suddenly, she felt uneasy.

But he had called her "darling". And that was enough for her heart to shut up her mind, at least for a little.

"How funny it is to meet again this way again!" William exclaimed, his brilliant smile lighting up all of New York. It really was pretty dismal, with the slush from a bad snowstorm plaguing the streets. Big, dirty puddles flooded the streets.

"Yes, it is pretty odd, isn't it?" Lucy giggled. She hadn't giggled like that in a while. But William's very presence made her feel giddy.

"I was going to call you and ask if you'd like to go get a bit of coffee," William grinned. Lucy nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Here she was, dressed in a tied blue shirt, boots, jeans, and her trust winter jacket. And William was handsomely dressed in a crisp suit and tie. She felt like a moron in front of him.

"Right now?" Lucy panicked. William laughed a throaty laugh at her squeak of a voice and placed his hand on her lower back.

"Of course, darling. Don't worry, it's only a spot of coffee," He told her with a wink.

Lucy felt her heart pitter hard, so hard she thought he could hear it. She nodded and let his hand rest on the small of her back, her legs moving mechanically. There was something magnetic about his touch. Something that sent her entire body in a frenzy. Her fingers burned with a white hot intensity. Even nerve in her body was tingling with excitement. She looked up at William and met his gaze.

And then, she felt a splash of cold slush hit her. Lucy looked down at her jacket and found it to be completely soaked with dirty water. A truck zoomed down the street.

Lucy's face grew hot with embarrassment.

"What a careless fool. Doesn't that man know he just disrespected one of the most beautiful women in New York?" William exclaimed. "Come darling, my apartment is just across the way. We can't have you walking through the city all cold and wet. You'll catch something," William told her, his face close to hers.

"No!" Lucy exclaimed, panicking. She didn't even know this man, and she was going to his apartment? What if he tried to…

William's face fell, but then he regained his composure.

"Perhaps I'll call a taxi then," he said with a strained smile. "We can't have you getting sick in this cold weather."

Lucy's heart fell. His eyes lost a bit of sparkle, and his smile faded a bit. Her entire body sagged with disappointment. No, she didn't want to leave him. She wanted to be by his side as long as possible.

"No its fine, we'll go to your apartment. I just…overreacted," Lucy apologized. Once again, William smiled a luminous smile.

"Wonderful," he purred.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello everyone! I know this is a bit short, but it is an important chapter. Go Lucy!

* * *

Lucy stood in the immaculate living room. The walls were a crisp white, as well as the soft leather couch. The shag carpet, however, was a blood red, but felt warm under her feet.

She felt like an outsider.

She shivered in the chill of the house. Her clothes were soaked through with dirty water, and she was now dripping on the carpet. She had known William was wealthier than the average New Yorker, but she didn't know he was swimming in cash.

Lucy turned and spotted a large window. She walked toward it and peered out. She realized the building she was looking at was the one her studio was in. In fact, she could see her easel clearly from the window. A chill crept over her, but she assumed it was from her wet clothes.

He had been so close to her. After all this time, he had been across the street from her studio. It was only coincidence they had never met. That she had never once seen him leaving or entering the apartment across the street.

_You'd be surprised what you miss when you're not looking for it_.

Her mother used to tell her that all the time. That humans often forget what they see, or neglect to see particular things because they're simply too busy looking for what they need, what they want. Lucy never really understood what her mother meant by that. If things were there, surely Lucy would see them. But she understood now. Lucy had been so caught up with herself, with her stress, with Roxie that she had never really taken any time to stop and look around.

"I hope these won't be too big for you," William interrupted. He entered the living room with a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He looked effortlessly charming with his tie loose around his neck. Lucy felt the nervous blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks.

"Thank you," she murmured as she took the clothes. "Where is your bathroom?" she asked sheepishly. She didn't know why she felt so embarrassed by him. He really was quite intimidating, with his height and that intense gaze. Lucy felt even smaller than she already was.

"Right down the hall, on your left," William told her. Lucy nodded and scurried away down the hall. She locked the bathroom door behind her, her heart beating like crazy.

Lucy peeled the soaking jacket off her arms, followed by her damp shirt. Her bra seemed to be pretty dry, and she whispered a "thank-you" for her bit of luck. She then squirmed out of her jeans, but was dismayed when she realized her underwear was soaking wet. Panic began to rise in her throat.

What would she do with her underwear? She couldn't just leave it out to dry. But if she kept them on, they would soak right through the sweatpants.

Lucy sighed and took them off as well, and shoved them in the zipper pocket of her jacket. She would just have to deal with them later. She pulled on the warm, soft sweatpants and the t-shirt. Thankfully, her hair hadn't gotten anything in it. She hung the clothes over the sink and unlocked the bathroom door. With one final exhale, she entered the living room again.

William was looking out the large window, his hands folded in the pockets of his pants. His face was calm and still. He looked so beautiful, like a marble statue crafted by Michelangelo. His skin was a flawless shade of alabaster, his eyes like two of the most beautiful emeralds she had ever seen. His were thin and red, but masculine. His nose was perfectly straight and domineering. A slight blush lay on his sharp cheeks.

As if he sensed her presence, he turned his head. Lucy felt her heart stop for a few moments. His lips pulled back and exposed his wolfish smile.

"You still look fantastic. Would you like some coffee to warm you up?" he asked. Lucy nodded, unable to form a string of coherent words. He handed her a mug, and she took a sip. William sat on the couch, and patted down the spot next to him.

Lucy moved without realizing.

"So tell me Lucy. Why is it that we keep bumping into each other?" William asked, his arm dangerously close to touching Lucy's. Lucy kept her hands firmly on the warm mug of coffee. She was too afraid to touch him. She didn't want to ruin it for herself.

"Just lucky coincidence," Lucy murmured. She looked at William to find him leaning close to her. She felt an odd calm take over her. She didn't understand, but her nerves fizzled to nothing. Her entire body warmed at his look.

"Perhaps. Or maybe something more," William said. She saw his eyes flicker with a gleam.

"You mean like fate," Lucy whispered, looking down into the mug. And then, she felt his presence lift a little, and he shifted away from her.

"Could be. Or maybe it really is just coincidence," he chuckled. Lucy strained a laugh.

She wanted to hold his long, delicate hand. She wanted to lie on his chest and hear his breathing. She wanted to know every little secret about him, every little twist in his character. She wanted to see him happy, angry, frustrated, bored. She wanted everything she could have from him. And in return, she would give every little bit of herself. She wasn't sure if William was good or bad but she knew she craved his presence.

"So tell me Lucy, how long have you lived in New York?" William asked. Lucy felt herself sink into calmness.

"I've lived here my entire life, and I wouldn't want to live anywhere else," Lucy said. She sipped a bit of the coffee and sunk a bit lower into the sofa. Her mind settled in an odd fog of confusion. "But I've never seen you before. My studio is right across the street," Lucy explained, pointing out the window. William cocked his head a bit.

"I've just arrived in New York a little while ago. I needed a bit of a break, and I always had quite an affinity for this city."

_That must be why I only started to see him recently,_ Lucy thought.

"But if that is your studio, you must be some sort of artist," William assumed. Lucy nodded and smiled a bit.

"I paint, mostly for commission. But I always really enjoyed it, even as a kid," Lucy explained. "It helps me clear my mind," she explained. She set the mug down on a coaster on the table.

"That sounds wonderful. Perhaps you would take me to the studio one day?" William asked. Lucy felt her heart fill with pride.

"I would like that," she smiled.

William leaned a bit closer to her, and Lucy's head began to swim. For a moment, she thought he would try to kiss her, but he pulled away before getting too close. Her entire body pulsated with an emotion she had never experienced before. She tried to think of its name, but couldn't, and quickly became frustrated.

She blushed at how close his face had grown. She hated to admit it, even to herself, that she had only been kissed once, and that had been before The Accident. But the kiss itself had been an accident in itself.

"Had anyone ever told you that you have the most charming eyes?" William asked her. Lucy felt her jaw slack a little, but quickly clamped her mouth shut.

"I…I don't think so," Lucy stammered. "Maybe…" she trailed off.

"What a shame," William whispered. Lucy clung to his sultry voice, eager to hear him whisper again.

"It seems to be getting a bit late though. Don't want to keep you from home. Shall I call a taxi for you?" William asked, breaking the silent tension in the room.

"Oh, no I'll just walk. I only live a few short blocks away," Lucy said as she stood up. William stood up as well, and Lucy was reminded how he mammothed her in size.

"Then I shall accompany you. Wouldn't want to take any chances of you getting hurt," William said, grabbing his jacket. Lucy grabbed her damp clothes from the bathroom.

"Here, wear this. It's pretty chilly outside," William said as he wrapped his wool jacket around her shoulders. Lucy took in the smell of peppermint as he placed the jacket on her shoulders. His hands were huge, but thin and graceful. She liked the feeling of his hands on her shoulders, wrapped in his wool jacket. And even though she felt intimidated by his presence, his hands on her made her feel…protected. As though nothing could hurt her now that he was holding her a bit.

William placed his hand on the small of her back once again, and the two left the apartment building. As they walked down the street, Lucy could imagine what others thought of them. A brilliantly handsome man and a short, squat girl who looked like a terrible mess. What an odd couple they must have come off as.

The walk to Lucy's apartment was quiet the entire way. Lucy was too shy, too nervous to say a single word. The two walked up the flight of stairs, but when Lucy reached her apartment door she hesitated a bit. She stood still at her door, her key in her hand. She chewed her lip and thought of something charming to say.

When she turned, Will was so close to her, so close she could feel the warmth breath hit her face. Every word, every thought slipped out of her mind. He rested his arm against her door, his nose a mere centimeter from hers. He looked deeply into her, his lips pursued with determination.

"Lucy…I cannot explain it, and although we have just met, I can't help but feel…attracted to you. I must see you again soon," Will whispered hoarsely.

Lucy's entire mouth grew dry as Will took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. She felt her entire body shake as he looked at her with his lonely eyes. Lucy couldn't speak, could barely move. There was something traitorous in his kiss, in his words. Her emotions conflicted with logic. She wanted to see him again of course, but Lucy knew she couldn't trust him, more so, she couldn't trust herself. There were far too many conflicts. She was intimidated, nervous, scared - but also attracted, intrigued, and needy.

"Perhaps," she told him.

Lucy slipped the key in the door and quickly scampered inside. She leaned against the closed door for support.

Lucy could feel her uncertainty devour her. Things were moving too fast, she had only met Will last night. And already she felt as though she needed him.

No, this could not happen.

* * *

Loki stood in the hallway for some time. Had he just been rejected by a mere mortal? That wasn't possible…he had done everything correctly. He had been charming and kind. He hadn't been too pushy, but could see Lucy had wanted more. So why had she left without a single good bye? Why did she leave him without a promise of seeing him again?

Loki stormed out of the building and back to his apartment. Rage began to fill his heart, frustration take over his mind. Every moment had been executed perfectly. He had lured her in and snared her like the little, meek bird she was. And when he touched her, she had transferred her emotions to him. She hadn't been annoyed, angry, or uncomfortable. Loki had felt the warmth she was giving off.

This did not make any sense to him. He paced the apartment with frustration and began to think.

Lucy held three envelopes in her hand. The first was a simple utility bill that she knew she could pay. The second was a hospital bill that had rose dramatically from the previous payment.

And the third was one of congratulations. An art showcase at the local museum had asked her to show some of her work. But the good news was overshadowed by the hospital bill.

Even with the money she had made from her last painting, she was thousands of dollars short. Every month, the bill grew in size. More tests were being run, and the hospice kept reminding Lucy the chance of her brother waking up was slim to none. Lucy knew they wanted her to pull the plug on Max, but she refused. She would not take the chance of losing him. Not like she lost her parents.

Lucy felt a dull headache begin to spread from her temples. Between Will and the bills, she wasn't sure she could even produce art for the showcase. She had a month to create three new paintings, all of which needed to be good enough to sell. She could feel the stress creep up her spine.

Lucy stood up and took a few ibuprofens. She grabbed her keys and left the apartment. Urgently, she hailed a taxi.

"Saint Elizabeth's Hospice," she told the cab driver.


	8. Chapter 8

Lucy sat in the hospital room and listened to the whirring and beeping of the machines that kept Max's heart beating, kept blood circulating. She walked to his bedside and sat on the edge of the bed.

It was odd to see him so still, so peaceful. Max had always been so full of life, so joyous. He never complained, never worried. Life was always good for him, even when he did something stupid. Lucy parted his hair to the side and stared intently at his face. Even though he had been in a coma for years, he didn't seem to age all that much. He still had that youthful innocence in his rosy cheeks. Although he was four years her elder, Lucy felt infinitely older than him. She felt tired, haggard, lonely.

"Oh Max, what should I do?" Lucy asked.

Max couldn't answer. Lucy knew that, but there was a bit of reassurance just by sitting next to him. And she had hoped some solution would come from the blue just by being here. She missed Max more than anything, and she would do everything in her power to make him wake up from his coma.

Even though they were four years apart, Max had been Lucy's best friend. They rarely ever fought, and when they did, they would be laughing about it ten minutes later. Max would support Lucy regardless of what she wanted to do. When she accidently broke his Captain America action figure, Max was barely even mad. Lucy even gave him one of her Ken dolls to make up for the destruction of Max's favorite superhero. They were inseparable.

So when Lucy lost her best friend, she was absolutely destitute. If it hadn't been for Roxie, Lucy wasn't entirely sure where she would be now.

Lucy remained by his side for a while longer. And as she sat, she began to think.

It was obvious her body was trying to tell her something about Will. Whenever she was near him, she could feel her entire body on edge. She could feel his emotion just by being in the same room as him. She could only imagine what she would feel if she actually touched him with purpose. Her body was urging her to find out what it was that drew her to him.

But Lucy's mind, her logical side told her to avoid him at all costs. She didn't know who he was, or what he was capable of. More importantly, Lucy wasn't foolish to think she was the only person on the planet with a special ability. What if William was like her? Or had some power she wasn't aware of?

When Will had kissed her hand, leaned close to her, it felt wrong. But when he was talking to her, protecting her, there was a bit of honesty. It was all so confusing to Lucy. How could a man be honest one moment, and betray his feelings the next?

It was a conscious battle of fight or flight. But Lucy had run from her problems her entire life. Buried them behind her in art, in hospices, in the dark crevices of her mind. But Lucy didn't want to run anymore.

If there was something about William she needed to know, she was going to find it out. She wouldn't let him trip her up like he did last time. No, this time around, Lucy was in control. She would get to the bottom of this, even if it killed her.

* * *

Loki stood in the middle of the studio, scepter at his side.

If Lucy wouldn't come to him on her own, he would make her. He would leave her no option but himself to confide in, to lean on.

Loki picked up the first canvas and put his foot through it. He smirked at how easy it would be to break that heart of hers. She would run right into his arms, begging for reassurance. And he would give it to her; he would swear to find the miserable loser who defiled her studio. Then he would pick out some deranged criminal and make him suffer.

He continued to destroy several works of art, his pride swelling with each tear of fabric. He kicked a few holes in the empty apartment and even tipped over the lamp. His smile grew with each destructive action. He stepped back to take a look at his handiwork, when he found he had forgotten the largest canvas in the room, sheathed behind a piece of cloth. It had been the very canvas he had watched her paint for many hours while he had been watching her. Those long tedious hours drove him to practical insanity, and it would leave him overjoyed to ruin such hard work and dedication.

With one pull, he ripped the sheath off the painting. At first, he didn't quite understand.

But then he saw the painting was of him. And not him as William…

But as himself, Loki the Asgardian.

Loki's heart iced over. How could she know? That was impossible…

It must be some sort of coincidence. Yes, a simple coincidence is all it was.

Or perhaps his little bird was smarter than he originally planned. He hadn't accounted for this disaster. He had assumed he was working under a guise of mystery. But if Lucy knew his secret, she would never open up to him. His flawless plan would fall apart.

Loki lifted his scepter and set the painting on fire. The red flames melted and morphed the canvas in a bent mess of dripping paint. He felt the heat of the flames lick at his face, but still, he felt unsatisfied.

He left the apartment more enraged than he had entered.

* * *

Lucy stared at the pile of Will's cleaned clothes. She folded them neatly and covered them in a clear plastic bag. She knew she would have to return them soon, and that was actually working to her benefit. She would pay him an unexpected visit, hand him the clothes, and then invite him over for dinner. It would be a simple invitation, and she wouldn't take no for an answer. She was in control of this now, not Will.

Lucy grabbed the bag and slipped on a pair of heels with mary jane straps. She smoothed out the baby blue dress she was wearing and slipped on her trench. It couldn't hurt to add a little sex appeal to her persuasion. She added a bit of mascara to her lashes and left her apartment.

She walked with confidence down the icy street, careful not to slip. She felt light on her feet, and walked with a sense of poise she didn't know she had. She could do this – she could handle Will. All she needed to do was weasel out what he was being so elusive about.

And not fall for him. She would not let her heart betray her. No matter how handsome, how clever, how gentlemanly he was, Lucy would absolutely, positively not fall in love.

Lucy was tired of playing the victim, tired of having no control. This time, she would be the one playing the games. She would be the one left standing on her feet. This power would not get the best of her, not now and not ever again.

Lucy turned the corner to see police cars and fire trucks littered all over the streets. Police and firemen milled around the building across the street from Will's apartment building.

Her studio.

Every thought about Will, every ounce of confidence sunk to the bottom of her stomach. Lucy's heart plummeted along with it, and suddenly, she didn't feel so sure of herself.

Lucy ran to the building and slipped under the police tape urgently. Had there been a fire? Was anyone hurt?

"M'am, please-"

"That's my studio!" Lucy exclaimed. "All my work is in there," Lucy exclaimed. The policeman nodded and escorted her into the building. Lucy clutched the plastic bag and prayed that everything was okay.

She entered the apartment to find that everything had been destroyed. The walls were marked with slanderous phrases. Each and every canvas was ripped to shreds. Her chair was tipped, the light bulbs smashed. She felt a wave of nausea take over her.

In the center of the room sat a mess of ashes. Someone had set the picture of Will on fire.

Hours and hours of work reduced to a pile of black soot. Every stroke she had ever made was dismantled, destroyed, and dishonored. Every ounce of compassion was ripped to shreds. She felt violated, desecrated…Her heart snapped into a million little pieces.

"Luckily it was only a small fire. It's a good thing your neighbor across the street called it in, or else this entire place would'a burned to the ground," a fireman told her. "Real shame to see such art destroyed. Me and my wife, we're big fans of ya."

But Lucy could barely hear him. Her entire life was diminished to ripped canvas and a pile of ashes. What kind of cold hearted bastard could do such a terrible thing? Lucy didn't deserve this. Tears pricked her eyes as she realized there was no possible way she could produce enough art for the expo in a month. There was no way she could make money.

And there was no way she could pay for Max's medical bills.

"Lucy!" she heard a voice call. She turned to find Will in her apartment.

She couldn't do this. She couldn't put on a smile and invite him over for dinner. She couldn't seduce him into telling the truth. She couldn't figure out why her body told her one thing, and her mind told her another. She wanted to crumble into a ball and cry until she had not a single tear left.

"Lucy, we will find whoever did this terrible thing, I swear it. There is no way I will let that scum get away with this," Will promised her.

Will pulled Lucy close. Lucy wasn't sure what to do, and she froze in his embrace. She felt her entire body ice over in numbness, her heart ached in her chest.

"Why don't you come for dinner tonight?" Will proposed. Lucy broke away and pushed his chest.

And that's when she felt the wretched feeling. She was overwhelmed with hate, with jealousy, with pain. She could feel herself become consumed with anger, even though Will had done nothing wrong. Her entire body was ablaze, just like her painting. Her head began to spin with confusion, with blind anger.

"No! Just leave me alone!" Lucy screamed. She threw his clothes at him and ran from the apartment, tears brimming in her eyes. Her emotions were all over the place, and she began to see spots clouding her vision. She ran down the apartment stairs and all five blocks back home. Her legs felt weak, and were just about to give from underneath her as she unlocked her door. She collapsed onto her living floor and began to cry.

Her sobs filled the entire room. Her vision went completely black, and all she could hear was ringing in her ears. When she had touched Will, her entire body went haywire. She had absorbed something from Will. Some awful, dreadful feeling that she had yet to experience. She was left crumbled on the floor for a while in her trance.

Lucy remained on the floor until her eyes ached from crying. She stood up and wiped her face with a cold cloth. She shut and locked her apartment door and took her phone off the ringer.

She went into her closet and pulled out a canvas. She would not stop painting until she had enough for the expo. She would paint every second, and she would sell every single one. If not for herself, she would do it for Max. She had to.

Lucy spread old newspapers on the floor, and took a handful of paint. She threw it on the canvas with all the force she could muster. With each splat of paint, she gasped, she yelled. She dragged her hands over the canvas until not a single inch was left blank. Her chest heaved with each scream she emitted.

Damn, it felt good.

Lucy stepped back and looked at her handiwork. She was never one for abstract, but she did enjoy what she had created. She glanced at the clock and realized she had been making a mess for two hours. She wiped a bit of sweat from her brow and sunk to the floor.

What was it about Will that drove her crazy? He was hurting, she knew that from what she had absorbed from him, but should she help him? His emotion was so intense that Lucy could barely handle a graze. What would happen if she tried to absorb all of his hurt?

Lucy shivered at the thought. But there was something he was keeping from her, she knew that.

But just moments before, she was so sure she would dominate his heart, she would take control. She would dismantle Will, find out his secrets…

So the real question was what path would she take to get what she wanted?

The doorbell to her apartment buzzed. Lucy stood and wiped some of the paint off her hands. Without bothering to check the peephole, Lucy swung open the door.

And there stood Will with his hands folded. He looked up at Lucy with his two sad eyes.

Lucy had to answer that question, and fast.

* * *

**So, what should Lucy do? Help poor Loki, or destroy him? Let me know what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Oh, Will," Lucy murmured.

"Lucy, please listen. I'm not entirely sure what I did to anger you so, but I apologize. I never met to upset you. Surely there must be something I could-"

"No Will, I'm sorry. I just have a ton of things buzzing around in my head, and I flipped. I treated you terribly the other day, and just before I lost it," Lucy apologized.

Lucy knew that she could never pull off her original plan. Who was she fooling? She was a terrible liar, and the very thought of deceiving Will made her stomach churn now.

Lucy wasn't sure why she was given this power, but she knew it had a purpose. Will was in pain, and even though he may be a liar, and perhaps a playboy, it didn't change that there was something terribly wrong with him. It was Lucy's duty to see his problem out, even if it ended up in pain.

"Yesterday Will I…I just freaked a little. I'm not used to being told I'm pretty or whatever. And it was rude of me to just slam the door in your face, after all you've done for me. And I would like to maybe start over from then," Lucy apologized. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear in embarrassment.

"Your hands," Will said, shocked. Lucy looked at her stained red hands.

"Oh, just a bit of paint," she told him, with a laugh. "Why don't you come inside," she said, opening the door.

Lucy washed the paint from her hands and wiped them on a wash cloth. Her fingers throbbed a bit, but she ignored it. She was doing the right thing by helping Will, she knew that now.

Lucy turned and found Will looking at the painting.

"You made this Lucy?" Will asked, a grin on his face. "It's really lovely," he told her.

"Oh, thank you Will," Lucy blushed. She was always caught off guard by how charming he was, with that smile, and those gleaming eyes.

"I wish I could've seen your other work," Will said. "I can't believe a person would do such a terrible thing," he muttered.

Lucy sighed and tossed the dish towel in the sink. She stood next to Will and looked at her painting.

"The world is filled with terrible people, Will. But it isn't their fault entirely. Circumstance often makes people the way they are."

Loki looked down at Lucy, her eyes filled with sadness.

And for a second, he thought he felt his heart flicker. But that was nonsense. He couldn't feel bad for such a wretch like Lucy. She was weak and temperamental. She was an emotional wreck, and Loki could never feel bad for such a fool.

It must have been something else that made him feel that slight twinge of guilt. He ignored the sinking feeling and remembered he was in a prime situation to take advantage of Lucy in the weak and needy state she was in.

Loki glanced down at her small frame and saw the way she looked back at him, with her two dark, round eyes. Both were glossed over and red from crying. He clenched his teeth and reminded himself that she was not someone he should care for. That she was a mere mortal, weak and insolvent.

"There must be something I could do to help," Loki insisted. Lucy smiled, even though her eyes remained cheerless

"Actually, there is something you could do. I need to produce five more paintings by the end of the month, and I would love for you to be a model for one of my portraits," Lucy grinned.

Loki hid his satisfaction. This was absolutely perfect. He would have a reason to spend several hours with her, without suspicion.

She was making it almost too easy.

"Any way I can aid you," Loki smiled. He saw a visible blush form on her round cheeks, and a rumble of joy filled his chest. She was so easy to manipulate that it brought him delight he had never felt before.

"Fantastic. You can come by tomorrow, around noon. Wear whatever you're most comfortable in," Lucy told him. "And thank you, for everything," Lucy smiled kindly.

"I care for you Lucy," Loki told her.

"Do not fill my heart with such lies, Will," Lucy murmured. And although it was said in such an innocent tone, Loki felt a cold shiver run through his veins when she placed a tender hand on his arm.

Loki left the apartment with a warm good bye, but could not get the shiver to leave his memory. With a single touch, she had left him with uncertainty. How had she known he was being dishonest? He had tried so hard to convey some sort of attachment to her, and yet she knew he was speaking falsely.

_It must be that power of hers_ Loki concluded. She must feel the lack of emotion, lack of tenderness in his statements. That must've been why she denied him at first and how she could so easily tell he was lying when he claimed to care for her. But he had done such an excellent job at leaving her breathless.

He would have to try harder for tomorrow.

Lucy lay in bed, mulling over thoughts of Will. Even though he was speaking falsely, her heart still stopped when he looked at her. She still felt her cheeks flush with color when he told her he cared for her. She had never been so attracted to a man before in her life.

And yet, she knew he was lying. She knew he was far too much for her to even know where to start.

Lucy didn't sleep at all that night. She let her mind churn with thoughts of Will. His heart was in such pain Lucy could barely fathom. She could understand why he was so emotionless. It must be tortuous to wake every morning with such a heavy soul like his. To feel burdened every moment he lived. She felt bad for the toils he must've been through.

She wanted to make him a better person. She could not believe that just earlier that day, she was so ready to ruin him. It had been selfish of her to think that way. He had saved her life, he had helped her, and he had been the one to call the police when her studio was destroyed. His actions were noble, even though his heart claimed different. What he had done for her was more than she could ever ask.

Lucy rose when the sun peered through her blinds. She took a long shower and took time scrubbing every inch of her skin. It felt good to stand in the warmth and forget about the turmoil she had been through for the past few days. But today was a new day for her. Will would come at noon. She would be kind, but stern if she detected he was lying. She would try to gain his trust, and hopefully, he would open up to her.

Hopefully, she could help his heartache.

She wouldn't be some unforgiving seductress or the meek damsel. She would be Lucy – plain, simple, straightforward Lucy. She wouldn't be swayed by his advances or his cutting remarks. She would stand tall, she would remember why she was given this power – to heal, to help. Using her ability to hurt against everything Lucy had ever learned from her mothers.

Love, not time, heals all wounds.

Lucy slipped on her slim fit cargo trousers and a sleeveless collared navy blouse. She opened one of the dresser drawers and pulled out a little emerald jewelry box that had been her mother's. From the small box, she pulled out a silver locket, hand engraved with her initials. She slipped on the locket and tucked it under her shirt, close to her heart. Already, she felt calmer.

The doorbell buzzed and Lucy unlocked the door. Will stood in the doorway, dressed in his suit and tie, like always. She wondered why he never dressed casually, though she couldn't really complain. He always looked quite handsome in his suits.

"Come on in Will," Lucy smiled, welcoming him. "Let me just grab a canvas," she told him.

She went into the spare closet and picked out a large, blank canvas. She also grabbed her briefcase that lay against the closet door and a piece of cardboard. She wiped her sweaty hands on her pants and re-entered the living room to find Will looking at a photograph of Lucy and her brother as kids.

"You know, you haven't changed a bit," Will told her. "Still have the same smile."

"Yes," Lucy blushed. She bit the inside of her cheek, and remembered she was in control of her emotions, not Will. "Well, I suppose we should get started, now shouldn't we?" She smiled.

"How would you like me?" Will asked. Lucy swallowed the knot in her throat, wondering if Will picked up on the sexual connotations of what he just said.

And by the smirk on his face, he had.

Lucy felt the muscles in her back tighten as they always did when she felt a bit aggravated. She placed the canvas on the easel and glanced around the room.

There was a great deal of natural light coming from the balcony window, and into the sofa. She guessed that would be the best place for him.

"Why don't you sit on the couch? Close to the window," Lucy instructed. Will nodded and sat down without any problem. "And tilt your head up a bit," Lucy ordered. Will lifted his sharp chin, the light reflecting off his sharp, chiseled cheekbones and defined jaw. But something was still off about the way he sat.

Lucy walked over to the couch and placed her hands on his wide shoulders. Will kept his eyes on her, but did not speak a word. The silence penetrated Lucy more than a thousand icy knives. She pulled his proud shoulders down a bit and slouched his back a little. He looked far too proud, and Lucy envisioned the Will in her dreams.

The broken, the lonely, the lost Will.

Then, she placed one hand lightly on his cheek, the other lay on his lap. She titled his head a bit, her fingers tingling at every touch. She lowered his jaw a bit more and tucked a stray hair behind his ear.

She placed one hand on his broad, strong chest and smoothed out his tie. Lucy hadn't realized, but she had transferred a bit of her happiness, a bit of her strength to him when she touched his chest. It was very subtle, but she thought her fingers felt a bit warm to the touch as she walked back to the canvas.

Lucy opened the fresh bottles of paint and poured small circles of each onto the palette. With a brush, she blended a magnificent green and began on his eyes before anything else. Often, she jumped straight to the fine details before anything else. When she began to sketch the irises, she heard Will laugh a sultry, low laugh.

Lucy peeked from behind the canvas to find Will grinning at her with his fox like smile.

"Are you laughing at me? Lucy asked, slightly embarrassed. She hadn't been making a face, had she?

"No, not at all. You just look so serious," William chuckled. "It suits you."

Lucy waited to feel the familiar sting in her fingers that detected he was lying. She waited for the gut wrenching feeling she got when she knew something was amiss.

But that feeling never came.

Lucy hid her smile behind the canvas and began to add the sparks of light that always made Will's eyes look so luminous. It was as though sparks of silver were stuck in his irises, brightening his otherwise gloomy look. She drew his dark, thick lashes with quick flicks of her wrist, curling them upward and out. There was almost a childlike look to his sparkling eyes that his curt mouth and sharp features deceived.

"So tell me Will, what really brings you to New York?" Lucy asked daringly. "And don't tell me it's a vacation. I can't imagine wanting to relax in the city that never sleeps," Lucy teased.

"Would it be far too mysterious if I didn't answer?" Will asked mischievously. Lucy peeked from the canvas again, her eyes like the slits of a snake.

"A little 007 work?" Lucy joked. Will cracked a small smile, his eyes like a chesire cat's.

"Not quite I'm afraid. My father's company…outsourced me here. There had been a little confusion at a branch nearby, and I always felt this strange attraction to the city. Something about the chaos that makes me feel a bit safe. But I'm sure you don't really understand-"

"One face in a city of thousands. No Will, I understand exactly what you mean," Lucy agreed. "Like no one could hurt you because there are so many others."

"Yes, but it doesn't always seem to work so well. With your studio…" Will reminded her. Lucy's heart sunk a bit, but she didn't feel too disheartened.

"Sometimes, you're one of the others," Lucy murmured. "But it didn't turn out to be too terrible. You were there to call the police, thank goodness," Lucy said.

* * *

_Yes,_ Loki thought_ to call the police._

And it was odd, and sudden, but his heart felt a little heavy. He didn't like the way her dark, sparkling eyes lost a bit of twinkle when she talked about what he had done. How she thanked him, even though he had caused it all.

Normally, he would be overjoyed. He would have to try to contain a raucous laugh and remind himself to keep composure. But it was as though he felt a bit of her pain, just like before, when she had touched his chest.

He had felt the surge of warmth so suddenly that it caught him off guard. He thought of a happier time in his life, when he was ignorant and naïve. When Thor was his equal and Odin was his father. When Asgard was full of possibilities and adventures that bent to whatever he wished. His entire body lightened at her touch, and yet she hadn't noticed she had used her power on him. Such a profound effect, with such little consequence.

He wondered if Thor had felt this way about Jane so suddenly, and so out of the blue.

_Pull yourself together, you fool_ Loki thought. _This is no time for sentimentality. You owe her not a single thing._

He stared at Lucy for a great deal. By no means did he enjoy her presence, but he liked her much better like this when than when she was all teary-eyed and ridiculous, or meek and mild. There was something different about her, as though her countenance had changed overnight. A certain maturity he had yet to notice.

Then again, this was the first legitimate conversation they ever had. He thought perhaps he could grow to at least tolerant her when she was like this, rather than the pitied fool she was before.

Even though a certain acceptance had grown between the two, almost instantaneously, Loki still felt the need to dominant the weak girl. She was still feeble and foolish. At any moment, she could crumble to floor like she had before. He still looked at her as a task to be dealt with overall.

But Loki then looked at her not as a whole and instead, as many different parts. He looked at her curly brown hair that always fell in loose ringlets. He noticed the light freckles that patterned her small, birdlike nose. A rebellious silver ring stuck from her nostril, and he realized he had never taken the clannish piercing into consideration. He took into account the way her lips curved softly, and how supple the bottom lip was. He stared deeply into her dark, round brown eyes. And he wondered why men didn't really fancy her. Although he could never see an attraction in her rather plain appearance, she was not disagreeable. By no means did Loki find her to be as beautiful as Asgardian Goddesses, but she was not Frost Giant. And he thought if parts of Lucy were components to a different woman, he may actually consider her as a worthy opponent.

But Loki knew such stupid, insignificant observations meant nothing. In the end, she was still a mortal. Mortals were weak, mortals were ignorant, and mortals were irrational. She was still the same imprudent Lucy he had saved from her untimely death. She was still the same Lucy that rejected him. And she was still the same Lucy that had the power to make him feel absolutely wretched.

She was still the same Lucy he would enjoy to see kneel before him.

Loki wasn't sure how long he had remained in that position, but Lucy gave him a peculiar look.

"You can move now, Will. We're done for today," she smiled. He noticed her teeth were a bit crooked. "Would you like something to eat? You must be a bit hungry from sitting there for three hours. I don't know how you didn't get terribly bored," Lucy grinned.

"No, I must be going," Loki told her tersely. He grabbed his wool jacket and exited her apartment.

With each step, the lightness in his chest began to fade. The usual chill returned and his spirits dulled a bit. Had Lucy put on some sort of ruse? Had she just tricked him into feeling a sort of sentimentality for her?

As he walked down the cold streets, he no longer felt any connection to her. All the small traits he noticed about her faded in their peculiarity. What he had felt moments ago began to feel like more of a dream than a reality. Loki's heart grew with a bit of anger when he realized she had tricked him.

_Perhaps the gained strength is not permanent_ Loki reasoned. The immortality he had just felt, the peace within his heart faded to a nothingness. In other words, Lucy would have to constantly supply him with power, or else such power would fade. An interesting quirk…

Loki quickly forgot about Lucy when he spotted a Dr. Selvig entering SHIELD headquarters.

* * *

**See, Loki isn't ALL that bad. Just a little rough around the edges is all. Though, there is a great bit of turmoil ahead of the two, so don't hold you breath! **

**And just to clarify, I always thought of Lucy as a weak character that gained strength over time. So yes, in the beginning Lucy is a bit of a...pushover. And most importantly, this story is, at the base of all, a story about love and its consequences. Just keep that tidbit in mind!**

**Lastly, I cannot thank all of you enough for the love and support through reviews and alerts. It is absolutely astounding to me that others truly enjoy this story. I always get so giddy whenever my phone beeps and I see I have an email from . Every review and every alert really warms my heart and reminds my why I started writing in general. So, for the millionth time, I cannot say thank you enough to fully express how happy I am, and thankful I feel for all the wonderful support this story is receiving. Much love!**


	10. Chapter 10

Hi everyone. I'm not sure I really like this chapter, but I think I'm just a little uninspired and stressed, and thus I am over analyzing and lacking a bit in description. I wanted to get a chapter out though, since I didn't yesterday.

* * *

Loki almost could not believe what he was seeing. For so long he had toiled to found such an article that would give him the power he so rightfully deserved.

Buried in the depths of SHIELD, hidden away from the universe, was the Tesseract, nestled safely away from any devious soul. It was small and compact, but held such magnificent power. The cosmic cube gave off a faint blue glow that seemed almost hypnotizing. Loki could feel the warmth that the small power source gave off, even though he was only using Selvig's eyes. He could feel the power, thick in the air.

"What is it?" Doctor Selvig asked as he looked at the small cube, buzzing with electricity.

"Power, doctor," Nick Fury told him. "Unlimited power."

Loki tried to contain his joy. He glanced at his pocket watch and grimaced. Much against his will, he would have to leave SHIELD for the time being. He had another appointment with Lucy, and would have to leave soon in order to get there in time. He didn't want to agitate Lucy, especially when he was so close to having everything he needed –both Lucy and the Tesseract.

Loki took his leave of Dr. Selvig and returned to his apartment. Quickly, he changed back into his normal mortal attire and magicked a little device most mortals called cellular phones. He slipped the sleek model into a small blue box and departed.

Loki walked with a renewed sense of pride. His plan was effortlessly being carried out, with little to no struggle. The only wild card in the situation was Lucy's habit of falling to pieces at the slightest bit of catastrophe. The poor girl couldn't handle a little bit of change, and such temperamental outbursts could send Loki to his ruin. He knew he would have to keep Lucy satisfied at all costs.

And that very though irked him. He felt like some sort of servant to her, making sure her little temper didn't get out of order, wiping away her tears whenever something went astray. She was a damned child, not a grown woman. But he was so close to victory, he put the annoyance out of his mind, and rang the bell to her apartment.

* * *

Lucy wiped her hands on a cloth and set aside the painting she had been working on. She had two finished, not counting the portrait of Will. With each stroke of the brush, she felt the weight on her shoulders lift a bit. Her heart began to beat a little softer, and her head stopped throbbing. For once in her life, she was refusing to break down. She was facing her problems head on, even when she thought she might collapse from exhaustion.

The bell to her apartment buzzed. Lucy bounded to the door with excitement and quickly unlatched the locks. She felt happier than ever to see Will, especially after yesterday. She didn't understand why, but he seemed to be a little more honest. He didn't give her overzealous compliments, and didn't try to hit on her. It had been a very friendly encounter, and Lucy was thrilled at the thought of seeing him again.

Lucy swung open the door, and her heart tumbled when she saw him. Truly, it seemed as though he became more handsome by the day. She admired his broad, strong shoulders, and the way his neck was craned, looking at her with peculiarity. She loved the way his hands folded together, his fingers like spindling vines. She loved the black tie that was a bit askew today. She wanted to reach out and stroke his sharp jaw line and be wrapped in his arms. She bit her lip and reminded herself that she must keep such wants in the back of her head. Such desires could be messy if she actually carried them out.

"Good afternoon Lucy. You look a bit tired," Will greeted her. Lucy welcomed him in and quickly pulled her hair into a neat bun.

Lucy, truthfully, was exhausted. She couldn't remember the last time she had laid in bed. She couldn't remember the last time she even napped. For the past few days she had been up every moment she could stand, painting. Her determination and a pot of coffee were the only things standing in her way of collapsing. Some of her best work had been driven by lack of sleep and hard work. Often, her most creative and meticulous paintings were created in the middle of the night. Her mind always seemed to work double time when the sun set.

"Yes, just a bit stressed I suppose," Lucy shrugged. She rubbed her eye a bit and held back a yawn from escaping her mouth.

"I picked you up a little something," Will smiled. He held out a small blue box with a white ribbon tied elegantly at the top. Lucy gave him a peculiar look and took the box from his hands. She pulled the ribbon carefully and opened the top.

"Will, you didn't have to do this," Lucy grinned. She took the cell phone from the box and shook her head. She let a breathless laugh escape her lips.

"I still felt pretty terrible about breaking your last one, so I picked one up for you," Will explained. Lucy struggled to figure out how to turn on the sleek piece of technology. Will chuckled at her, and pressed the square button at the top. "And now, you have no excuse not to call me."

Lucy looked up at Will, who was standing particularly close to her. She was reminded of his large stature, and felt comforted by his size. She kept her gaze on the glossy new phone to keep herself from resorting to girlish giggles.

"I made sure it was your old number. I'm sure you must have many calls left unattended."

The phone buzzed with unread texts and calls, mostly from Roxie. Lucy felt a wave of guilt wash over her as she remembered she had neglected to tell Roxie…well everything. She made a mental note to call her after Will left, and explain the details of her suddenly hectic life.

"I'll deal with them later," Lucy shrugged. She placed the phone on the kitchen counter. "As of right now, finishing this painting is the priority."

"Trying to get rid of me so quickly, Lucy?" Will joked.

"Wh-what? No, not at all Will! I didn't mean it-"

"Relax, little bird. It was only a bit of a joke," He grinned deviously. He towered over her five foot two stature. Lucy could feel Will radiating something, but she couldn't quite figure out what. Her heart sped up and hit against her ribs, threatening to crack each and every one. She felt every single nerve in her body tingle with excitement. She wasn't entirely sure if she was fond of what he had evoked, but it was a vast improvement from the horrors she used to sense from him. She wasn't entirely sure what she had done, but it seemed to have worked.

Lucy blinked nervously at the new nickname he had made for her. She had never really been called anything other than Lucy or the occasional "Luce". But the way Will had called her "little bird" had made her feel overwhelmingly happy. She didn't feel uncomfortable or nervous as she had before when he had kissed her hand. Something was different this time…

Lucy's dark eyes met with Will's beautifully green ones, and for a moment, Lucy felt her heart seize its beating. She felt a sudden and unexpected burst of power that blossomed in her chest. Her fingers burned with an intensity she had never felt, and for a moment, she swore her vision was beginning to fade.

The cell phone rang abruptly, and Lucy broke the silence. She picked up the phone and frowned at the number. It did not have a caller id, but she had memorized the number from the many calls she received throughout her life.

"I'm sorry, but I have to answer this," Lucy murmured. She left the living room and entered the bedroom. She shut the door behind her and stared at the screen for a moment. She didn't want to answer, but she knew she had to. Her stomach churned with nervous acid.

"Hello?" she answered nervously, bracing for bad news.

"Good afternoon Ms. Levins, its Doctor Russo. I'm calling to talk about Max's new test regime. It appears as though we will have to run more in depth tests due to a change in policy at the hospice. I believe you will be sent a new bill shortly-"

"I'm sorry, but I did not approve a new test regime," Lucy said, her voice losing a bit of life. "Dr. Russo, you know very well I can barely afford to pay for the room. You can't possibly expect me to pay more," Lucy said, the vomit rising in her throat.

"Lucy, I'm sorry but there is not much I can do. We are required to run a new set of tests in order to moniter Max efficiently-"

"That is bullshit!" Lucy exploded, tears spilling from her eyes. "You and I both know the only reason this is happening is because you know I can't afford it. And if I can't pay for his life support, you and all your little colleagues will pull the plug like you've been wanting to the past eight years," Lucy bursted.

Lucy had never in her life yelled so fiercely at she did at Dr. Russo. Just when she thought she might be able to pull it together, to save Max another month from being lost to her forever, another little bill comes through the mail. Lucy was only 22 and made only what she needed from her paintings. She didn't have a savings account and couldn't take out a loan. She hadn't gone to college, and had no degree to fall back on.

Lucy hung up the phone, and felt her legs collapse from under her. She grabbed onto the bed sheets and sat on the floor, her back pressed against the bed. Silently, she let the tears drip from her eyes. She kept her lips shut and silently heaved. She willed herself to stop and wiped her face with the blanket. Slowly, she stood up and buried her face in her hands.

Everything was beginning to fall apart again. Just when she had started to get her life in order, everything she had began to slip through her fingers. Her entire studio was dismantled. Every bit of art she cherished was reduced to ashes. And now, her own brother would become dust in the ground. He was the only thing Lucy cherished, and he was being taken from her.

And no matter what she did, she could not stop it. It was her inability to change the situation that left her so painfully weak she thought she may end up in a coma.

With a deep breath, she left the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She wandered into the living room to find Will looking out the balcony window at the city below. He turned to her, and his face fell.

"Lucy, what's wrong?" he asked. Lucy shook her head and plastered a painful smile on her face.

"Nothing is wrong. Why don't we get started?" Lucy insisted. Will looked at her, and she felt him examining her, looking right through her obvious lie. But she ignored his gaze and set up the easel and her paints.

Will sat down on the couch and positioned himself as yesterday. Lucy noticed his head was bowed a little more. Silently, she padded to the couch and lifted his chin a little forward. He kept her eyes on her like two green probes. She felt his gaze weigh her down like a million pounds right on her chest. The tension in the room doubled and Lucy could feel Will's pressure.

"Lucy darling…please tell me what ails you," Will whispered quite melancholy. Lucy did not say a word, and instead quickly returned to her easel. She felt tears burn the back of her eyes and she struggled to keep a cry from escaping her lips. Instead of thinking, she merely began to replicate what she saw. It was a passive act of duplication.

Lucy refused to answer again. She dipped the brush into the paint and fumbled the thin brush onto the floor. Paint splattered up onto her legs and on the throw rug. Lucy cursed under her breath and bent over, picking up the brush.

Her fingers were shaking to the point in which she could not even hold the brush. When she stood up, William was teetering over her. Lucy looked up at him, and felt the tears well in her eyes. She was going to lose it again in front of him. Why was it always him that left her so emotionally distraught? All she wanted was to be strong, not only for herself, but for Max. But she could barely go a day without breaking down and ending up like a big mess on the living room floor.

"Will I think you better leave," she muttered, wiping tears from her eyes. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear in an agitated manner. Will grabbed her arms and held her figure still from falling over. She tried to steady herself, but felt her legs turn to a wobbling mess.

"I am not leaving until you tell me what is hurting you," he commanded. Lucy shrunk in size at the command in his sultry voice. Her shoulders crumbled and she felt her body lump into a heap. She felt her entire body give up in a sudden burst.

"They-they're going to kill him Will! I can't pay and it's all my fault. I should've done something. I should've worked harder," she sobbed. Will pulled her close to his chest and Lucy buried her face in his white collared shirt. Her entire body shook with fear as she realized everything she ever had was quickly disappearing.

"Come on darling, let's get you sitting down," Will whispered. Lucy felt her feet leave the ground. She tucked herself closer to Will and let his heart beat pound on her chest. She liked the way it sounded – rhythmic and calm in the chaos that had just unfolded. She pressed her hand to his chest and felt his emotion flow into her consciousness.

Multiple emotions flew past her brain with ferocity. There was anger and annoyance, tenderness and compassion, pity and mercy…but the most powerful of all was a deep sadness that plagued his heart. Lucy continued to sob, her chest rising and falling at a dangerous rate.

She felt herself being placed on her bed. She curled up into the smallest form she could make herself into and pressed her cheek against her knees. She tried to keep her lip from trembling, but could not stop the sobs that racked her entire body.

She felt so alone.

She felt the side of the bed give a little, and Will's hands pulling her from her collapsed state. He slipped her under the covers and pressed a warm cloth on her forehead. She felt her puffy eyes close. Will took her hand and held it in his. Slowly, she felt herself drift off into sleep. Before she completely lost consciousness, she looked up at Will, who looked at her with pity.

"I could've saved him, Will."

* * *

Loki looked down at Lucy. Her entire face was a shade of pink, her two dark eyes closed and puffy. She lips were parted and her chest rose and fell slowly. Finally, she had fallen asleep.

She had gone into hysterics for close to an hour, crooning and mewling like a child. It had been absolutely pitiful to see her in such a state that he almost felt embarrassed for her. But as he watched her sleep, he no longer felt aggravated with her tirade. Her face was peaceful and he could hear the little breathes escape her lips as she slept. He kept her small, warm hand clamped between his. He brushed a stray hair from her forehead and kept his other hand near her face. Her emotions seemed to be quite stable now that she was asleep.

What he had felt when she touched his chest had felt so familiar. He could feel her sadness, her loneliness from a foot away. And it had felt so familiar to him. Just like when Odin had told him he was an abomination. When he first saw his skin turn the sickly shade of blue.

When he found himself to be a Laufeyson. The monster children have nightmares about. The monster parents pray never show their hideous faces.

He had felt the same destitution. He had toiled under the same burden of loneliness and knew the pain associated with it. Lucy's pain had been so magnified when she had touched him, Loki thought he may have collapsed as well. Her soul was so heavy he could've picked it up with his hands.

He knew what it felt like to be completely and utterly alone. To realize every terror you face from then on, you will face unaided. When you turned around, you would find no one's smile of encouragement, or feel no pat on the back. When you failed, you had no one to blame but yourself. And when you succeeded, no one was there to appreciate it but yourself.

And that was the scariest thought he had ever conceived.

Suddenly, he didn't feel all entirely too different from Lucy. The words she murmured before she drifted off haunted him, and reminded him of what he told Odin, moments before his plummet.

_I could've done it, father._

Loki clamped his eyes shut and remembered the look on his face.

"I will not fail," he whispered.

He would succeed. He would take what was so rightfully his and repair this world. If not for himself, then for Lucy.


	11. Chapter 11

I just want to thank you all for the support. After re-reading the last chapter, I decided I'm pretty happy with it. This chapter is a bit of a filler, but please enjoy nonetheless!

* * *

Lucy's eyes fluttered open to the sun pouring through the blinds. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the light as she squinted her lids open. She remained deathly still for several moments before she moved her fingers. They ached more than ever and she could almost bet they were bruised. She wiggled her toes and stretched out her legs, her back arched.

Lucy turned her head to find Will looking over her. Lucy jumped in fear and clutched the bed sheets.

"Will! What're you doing here?" Lucy asked in bewilderment. She pulled the bed sheets up to her chin and leaned on the edge of the bed.

"I didn't want to leave you to wake on your own," he murmured. He folded his hands together and looked away. Lucy let her arms fall to her sides along with the thin cotton blanket. She felt her body warm and the tips of her fingers jolt to life again.

"You didn't have to do that Will. I must've slept for pretty long," Lucy muttered. She ran her fingers through her knotty, messy hair and cringed at the rough, frizzed texture. She could bet she looked absolutely terrible.

"About twelve hours," Will said with a shrug. "I didn't mind all that much," he told her. He loosened his tie and a few buttons on his collared shirt. Lucy noticed his hair was a little messy, but otherwise he looked fine. He didn't look as though he had been sitting in a chair for twelve hours straight. He didn't even look tired.

"Will I-I'm not sure how I'll ever repay you," Lucy said with a tender smile. Will reached out and took one of her hands in his. He examined the small, soft hand and looked at the tip of each finger to the base of her wrist. He held it warmly between both his large, delicate hands.

"You can start by telling me what has got you so distraught," he said, his eyes looking straight at Lucy's.

There was something about the way he looked at her that had such a profound effect. Lucy felt herself swimming in his glossy green eyes. She felt so small, so insignificant compared to him. She felt like a dainty little flower that he could so easily pick apart.

Lucy hesitated and worked her hand from his grasp. She clamped onto the bed sheet once again and peered down at her hands. She hadn't told anyone about her family except for Roxie, and it hadn't been the full story. She left out numerous details about The Accident, only saying it was a car crash.

"Lucy," Will repeated, this time with a bit more dominance in his voice.

And then, Lucy felt the words flood out of her mouth.

"I was thirteen, and my brother was seventeen. We were heading to a family party along with my dad and mom. We were fighting, my brother and I, over something so stupid that I can't exactly remember. My father turned to us in the back seat and told us to stop, but we didn't. And then, all I heard was a really loud honk, and then the loudest sound I've ever heard. The car was tossed around and flipped over. Then, we were hit again, by someone else. And we went spiraling again. Oh God, there was glass everywhere, and I could smell rubber burning. I saw a little slit in the car, and I squirmed out from under the seat belt. And I crawled and fought my way out for what seemed like hours," Lucy said, her voice cracking.

"My first thought was to find my parents. And I did find them rather quickly, sprawled out like-like rag dolls on the concrete. My mother…I could barely make her out that's how ripped apart she was. There was blood everywhere. I tried to shake her, to get her to wake up, but she wouldn't. And so, I crawled to my father, who was in similar condition. My legs had gone weak and I had to pull myself away by my arms. And then I heard my brother call out for me. He yelled and screamed for someone to help him, and I pulled and pulled myself to his side. His face was completely ripped to shreds and bleeding all over the place. And his legs were stuck under a big piece of metal. And I tried to lift it, but I couldn't…I was too weak."

Lucy choked on her own words, but swallowed down the taste of copper in her mouth.

"And then he looked at me for a really long time. And then, he spoke for the last time. And you know what he said? He said he was so sorry, and then he passed out. And he's been in a coma ever since. I've been paying to keep him in the hospital, but I don't have the money anymore. And if I can't pay, then they'll take him off life support. They'll kill him Will."

Lucy didn't feel tears stinging the back of her eyes. She was too exhausted to cry anymore. She had spent countless hours sobbing over her situation she couldn't find the strength to summon tears. So, she remained silent, holding the blanket tightly in her hands. She twisted the sheet until it remained a crumbled mess.

Will seized her arms in his hands. Lucy's head jolted upward to find Will's face so close to hers. She felt so comforted by his closeness that her problems seemed to melt away. She looked at his lips, thin and assertive. She wondered if they were soft against hers.

_No!_ Lucy exclaimed in her head. This was not the time to be thinking of such things. There were pressing matters afoot and she could not think about Will. She had to think of Max, and finish those paintings. If she didn't, she would have nothing.

"Is this why you're working so hard on those paintings?" Will asked her, his face ducked close to hers. His brows were raised in a look of worry.

Lucy nodded, unable to think with him so close to her, touching her. She felt genuine worry flow into her like a wave from Will. She could not believe such emotion was coming from him. Just a while ago he had been so unclear in his attachments. And now, he was full blown worried for her.

"Lucy, I know you can do this. I know you will sell every one of those paintings you made," Will promised her. "I will be here every day if I need to be."

Lucy wasn't sure what came over her, but she sprang to him. She wrapped her arms around his strong frame and buried herself in his chest. He wrapped his large, strong arms around her and brought her closely. She felt comforted in the way her edges fit into his perfectly like puzzle pieces. Every inch of her buzzed with electricity. She craved the feeling of his skin against hers as she remained nestled against him for a few moments. She clamped her eyes shut and took in his smell of peppermint until it burned the inside of her nose.

Slowly, the two broke away, but remained in each others' arms. Lucy kept her eyes on his, melting in his green pools. His lips parted as if to say something, but he remained silent. With a gentle hand, he stroked her cheek tenderly, and pulled a stray hair away from her face and behind her ear.

"Maybe we should get started on the portrait," Lucy whispered. Will nodded, but did not move an inch. He kept his hands clasped firmly on her arms, and Lucy didn't object.

With one fatal swoop, Will dove in like a lion claiming its prey. His face molded perfectly to her, his lips brushing the smallest bit. Lucy felt her heart swell with anticipation as he pressed harder. Lucy leaned in further and clamped her eyes tightly. Her entire body trembled under his kiss, her finger tips on fire. She felt his fondness wash over her entire body like a warm summer breeze. She could feel every bit of excitement and wonder in his kiss.

Slowly, he parted and she felt the electricity simmer to a hum. He then pressed his lips again to her forehead and stood.

"I feel terrible to leave you like this, but I'm afraid there are a few things I must tend to, little bird. Forgive me," he murmured. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the seat and tightened his tie. Lucy climbed out from the bed and walked him to the door.

"Good-bye Will," she whispered. He turned to her, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and parted.

Lucy shut the door behind him and leaned against it for support. For a moment, she thought her legs may give out. She couldn't contain the smile that spread across her face and the blush that settled on her cheeks. She kept in a girlish squeal.

At first, she had been so sure that she would and could never have feelings for Will. But the kiss had rendered her doubtless – she had fallen for him. It had all happened so quickly Lucy could barely believe it. But she felt such emotion from him in that kiss that it didn't matter. What they had felt collectively was enough for her right then. She didn't need labels for their relationship. If Will had the passion, Lucy was more than willing to spend time with him.

Lucy searched the kitchen for her phone, and eventually found it on the counter. She smiled as she thought of Will, who had given her the phone as a present. She was even happier when she found Will had set up all her contacts.

Lucy dialed Roxie's number and patiently listened to the dial tones.

"LUCY! What the hell happened to you?" Roxie exclaimed. Lucy quickly pulled the phone away from her ear to avoid damage. She could hear Roxie causing some sort of ruckus over the phone. It sounded similar to throwing a bunch of pots and pans onto the hardwood floor.

"I'm really sorry Rox. It's just been really chaotic these past few weeks."

"Yeah, well your apartment better have burned down or something cause I've been worried sick about you!" Roxie exclaimed. Lucy strained a laugh and began to tell Roxie everything, from the rejection to the destruction of her studio, and lastly, her kiss.

"Jesus Christmas, Luce. We don't talk for a week and you got some whirlwind romance going on. Makes me feel a bit jealous," Roxie joked. Lucy shook her head and switched the phone to her other ear.

"It was just a kiss," Lucy giggled. But Lucy knew it was so much more than that. It was the emotion she had felt from Will – honest, raw, real. The very thought of it made her skin erupt in little goosebumps.

"Well I'd say that's pretty big for the Virgin Mary," Roxie muttered. "No offense," she added to her insensitive statement. Lucy blushed at her experience, or her lack thereof.

"And what about you? Are you still talking to Steve?" Lucy asked. Roxie laughed heartily at her question.

"Steve and I are just friends. I don't think even understands what dating is. Besides, he's not really my type," Roxie scoffed. Lucy laughed at her once again.

"Really Roxie, have you ever thought of dating a decent guy?" Lucy joked.

"Me? A decent guy? Luce you know I have a terrible weakness for those dark, rugged types," Roxie said in a husky voice.

"I don't know, maybe you and Steve would be good together," Lucy shrugged.

"Uh-uh no way. I think I'll stick to the friends deal," Roxie refused. "Speaking of which, I'm taking Steve to the museum. Do you wanna join?" Roxie asked.

"I can't. I gotta finish this painting," Lucy said. The two friends said their goodbyes and ended the call.

By no means were things in Lucy's life in order. Oddly enough, she felt calm, peaceful even. Her head was cleared and her heart was no longer all over the place. She could see clearly that she could finish all six paintings for the expo at the end of the month. And she would sell each one – she had to.

With a new sense of determination, Lucy set up a blank canvas. She grabbed her paints and simply began without really determining what to paint. She created from the heart, and that would make it good enough to show. She wasn't sure how long she remained in front of the easel, but she enjoyed every minute. With every stroke, she thought of Will and of their kiss. It pushed her to work her hardest even as the clock ticked loudly in the back of her head. There was something so wonderful about what they had shared that Lucy painted without a care. Her fingertips pulsated and buzzed with a blissful feeling.

Things were not perfect, Lucy knew that. But they were good enough.

* * *

Loki entered the forest in which he had landed in on the first day of his descent of Midgard. He breathed in the thick, cold air and smirked at the prize he had won. Lucy was all his, at last. And this time, he would not lose the prize he had so rightfully won.

Truthfully, he hadn't wanted to leave her this morning. She was so delightfully weak that he enjoyed controlling her a bit, feeling her tremble with each touch. He had wanted to wrap himself around her for a bit longer, but he knew there was business he had to deal with.

From his research through his dear friend Dr. Selvig, Loki had collected data that revealed an initiative to protect the Tesseract. Heroes from all around the world were collected and informed of the necessary protection.

One of those buffoons including his brother, Thor.

Loki would need an army, a bit of muscle. There would be only so much Lucy could do, seeing as she was only one mortal girl. Although her power was immense, she couldn't sustain much damage without defeat. He would need a bit of backup in order to take care of those worthless "Avengers". Lucy would then be engaged when he needed her most;

To seize the Tesseract.

Loki knew exactly who to recruit for his little army. It would take a bit of negotiating, but it would be quite worth it in the end.

With power brimming from his scepter, Loki dissipated into the thick fog that had settled in the forest.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry for the lack of updates, but I've been a bit busy with finals and such. Luckily, this is my last week of school! Please enjoy. **

* * *

Lucy rubbed her sweater-clad arms in an attempt to generate some heat. No matter how high she turned on the heat, the apartment still had a very curious chill. She suspected it might have been a draft from the old, yet beautifully crafted windows. She supposed it was just one of those winters that no matter how many layers you wore, you still froze to the bone.

Small, light snowflakes were falling all around New York, coating the dirty city with a pure, clean layer of snow. Lucy took advantage of the beautiful image before it would be ruined by the dirty feet and streets of New York.

Lucy took a step back from the easel and looked at the charming landscape she had created. There was nothing more lovely than a humble winter scene, with the sky burning from an austere grey to a soft, pleasant pink. She dotted a few more streaks of color and then soaked her brushes in the kitchen sink. She hated not having her studio, since she always managed to get paint all over the place.

Lucy scrubbed the paint off her hands and arms and swiped a loose hair from her face. She wiped her hands with a dishtowel and stood in the middle of her living room. In front of her stood four suitable paintings for the art showcase. The fifth, of Will, was yet to be finished. Although the painting itself was done, Lucy was toying with one addition – golden horns.

As of then, the painting was a simple portrait of a handsome man. Although beautifully painted, Lucy wondered if she needed an element of interest, a conversation starter. There was still something that was lacking in the painting.

With a nod of determination, Lucy plucked out a clean brush and mixed several shades of gold. With long, loping strokes, Lucy created two proud, swirling horns. Once again, she stepped back and smiled with satisfaction at her creation.

"Finally finished," Lucy whispered with satisfaction. Finally, her portrait of Will had been created. She found she liked it just as much as the original, and perhaps a bit more, since she had the real Will to work from. There was a stronger sense of attachment to the painting than ever before.

Lucy cleaned her brushes and dried them, then grabbed a scarf from her closet. She tossed the scarf around her neck, put on some boots, and grabbed two tickets to the art showcase along with a bouquet of flowers. Lucy tucked the tickets safely away in her pocket and hailed a taxi as she exited the apartment.

* * *

Loki slumped into the sofa and closed his tired eyes. The trip had been long and strenuous, yet fairly victorious. However, he had forgotten how exhausting it was to travel without the aid of the Bifrost. If it wasn't for his pig-headed, arrogant brother, it was still be in existence. Irregardless, He had achieved his goal of securing his army, which would wait patiently until his command.

Soon, he would wreak mayhem. It would be a simple task, really. He would infiltrate SHIELD, this time physically, and take what he so rightfully deserved – the Tesseract. While the organization spun like a top with confusion, spiraling out of control, Loki would summon Lucy and keep her from the bloodshed unless absolutely necessary. Then his army would invade and destroy each and every one of those feeble Avengers that thought themselves fit to be called "heroes".

A man of iron, a timeless super soldier, a scientist who couldn't control his temper, a foolish woman, an archer, and his arrogant brother - he was almost disgraced that these were the only fools Midgard could summon to defend themselves.

And yet, the real powerful mortal was right in front of their eyes, roaming the city like a lost soul. Loki knew that if Lucy could develop her power, there would be no stopping her. How could you stop something that rendered you so scared for your life you cannot move an inch? How could you fight something that jars the most terrible memories in your little brain?

You can't – you can't fight externally what is, in the end, an internal battle. Every fear, every regret, every bit of sadness all raging inside you…the only thing you can use that weapon for is to end your own life.

Loki's head swam as he thought of Lucy's potential. He wondered if she could project such emotion without having to touch others. Such close battle would result in imminent failure and possibly Lucy's death.

And although he did not want to admit it, Loki didn't want Lucy to have to see such vulgarity, such violence so close. He wanted to keep her as pure as he could in such ordeals. There was no point in inflicting such stress on her, especially since she was an emotional mortal, due to her gift.

He had seen her project an aura before, when he had first seen her on Midgard. He was sure she could do it again if he guided her. He knew she could project such emotion like others would a force field, and protect herself at a distance. But that was for a later time. For now, he had to focus on gaining her devotion.

He sunk into the sofa and relaxed a bit. When he had gained back his strength, he would call for her.

* * *

Lucy set the flowers in the clear vase. She arranged them a bit until she got them to her liking. Then, she propped the ticket against the vase and sat down next to the hospital bed. She glanced around the gloomy room with the beige walls and the even beige-er furniture. The entire room reeked of depression and sterilization that it made Lucy gloomy.

Lucy was never really fond of hospitals. So, when she found out her brother would remain in a coma for some time, she moved him to a hospice. She thought it would be a little more home-y. The rooms she had been shown seemed pretty comfortable and easy on the eyes. But this room was rather dull and depressing.

But, it was what she could afford.

Lucy placed her hand over Max's and though of the happiest memory she could. She thought of his smile and the way his laugh could get an entire room giggling. She remembered the way he used to make those funny faces at her during church just to get her in trouble. She recalled how he would always save her the last gingersnap but always drank the milk. She held onto his hand until the room felt a bit lighter and then left with only a tender kiss on his forehead.

She walked out of the hospice with heavy legs. The gentle snowfall was turning into a straight on blizzard, the streets piling with inches of thick, cold, icy snow. Lucy tried to hail a taxi, but found none to be roaming the streets. Stranded, Lucy knew she only had one more option; walking.

Lucy began her trek and immediately regretted it. It wasn't too long of a walk, but she was freezing. She wrapped her arms around her thick winter sweater and pulled her scarf over her ears. The cold, harsh winter wind burned her lungs. She kept her head bowed to keep her breath from being taken from her. She clung to the ticket, her only motivation.

She walked the nine blocks slowly and arduously until she reached his apartment. She didn't even give a passing glance to her studio since she knew it would end in heartbreak. She then climbed the three floors and rang his buzzer. She clenched her jaw shut to stop her teeth from chattering.

As her hand left the buzzer, she felt her heart drop right into her stomach. Did Will expect her to kiss him when he greeted her? Was that the proper thing to do? Or perhaps that kiss was a circumstantial type of thing, and wasn't supposed to happen again…

Or maybe they were a "thing". A couple, two parts of a whole. Maybe he would kiss her and she was worrying for nothing.

The door opened within the minute, and Lucy felt her body heat up with nerves as she saw him. He looked quite comfortable in an electric blue button down shirt with a few buttons left undone and a pair of black slacks.

"Lucy! I wasn't expecting you, come on in," he welcomed. Lucy shook her head and held out the soggy ticket.

"I just wanted to drop this off. It's an invitation to an art showcase I was invited to present at," Lucy told him in a pained voice.

"Lucy darling, you're soaking wet and freezing. Come inside," Will ordered as he wrapped an arm around her slumped shoulders. "Sit right here and let me get you some dry clothes," Will said with hurried voice.

Lucy felt the warmth of the fireplace roll off her face. She felt her body sink into the warm sofa. Slowly, she felt herself resting her head against a throw pillow. She watched the flames dance around and listened to the crackling of the flames. She was so tired and so cold she let herself begin to drift.

She wasn't sure how long it was, but she heard Will whisper in her ear. Slowly, she felt the cold sweater that stuck to her skin being lightly pulled over head. Her entire body was covered in goosebumps from the sudden change, but were soon soothed when she felt another sweater being pulled over her. Next, her pants were tugged off and replaced with a warmer, drier pair.

She was so tired she didn't fully process it was Will who had been changing her. If she had been a bit more coherent, she would have been so painfully embarrassed she would never look at Will again.

* * *

Loki propped Lucy up a bit, trying to wake her, but to no avail. Within minutes, she had collapsed on the couch. He shook his head and smirked at how odd she could be. He placed the dry clothes next to her and took the wet invitation from her clutched hands.

"Lucy dear, wake up," he whispered. Her face flickered a bit, but she remained asleep. Loki sighed and laid her back down on the couch. He placed a pillow under her head and moved her soaked hair to the side. Slowly, he peeled back the sweater from her skin, exposing her torso. Loki tossed the wet sweater on the floor and took in her small, curvy body. She was even smaller without the bulky clothes she seemed to have an affinity for. He smiled at the curve of her hips and the shape of her chest. He ran a finger over her collarbone and touched the soft, silky material of her brassiere, which seemed to be rather dry. Carefully, he pulled a dry sweater over her head and covered her torso. He then slowly peeled back the thick pair of tights and replaced them with soft, dry pants.

Loki magicked a warm, woolen blanket and draped it over her small, shaking body. He slipped right between her and the back of the sofa and wrapped his arms around her to stop her tremors. She nestled closer, her head fitting perfectly underneath his chin. He felt her body warming, but remained where he was to avoid waking her.

He propped his head on his hand and looked over her while she slept and looked at her calm, placid face. He had grown accustomed to her curved nose and her light freckles. He found himself vying for her pink lips and her loving smile. He wished to see her dark, sparkling eyes.

Yes, he was attached to her. But he found it may not be entirely terrible to be fond of her. It seemed the more affection he felt, the more readily she was to submit to him. She had submitted the minute he had said a genuine thing, without much hesitation.

Loki would never understand mortals.

He remained still, lying right next to her for the rest of the night. He did not sleep while the moon was out. He was intrigued by the way she murmured in her sleep, like a small child. He liked to watch her chest rise and fall in a particular pattern. He took a bit of satisfaction when she tossed and turned, always ending up close to him. He enjoyed feeling her small form against his and thought it would be nice to stay like this a while.

As the sun began to rise, he felt himself beginning to lull. He was still exhausted from his trip and decided to rest his head on the pillow. The rhythmic beating of Lucy's timid little heart ticked like a metronome, and Loki felt his eyes close slowly. The last thing he heard was the little beats of her heart.

* * *

Lucy's eyes slowly opened. She rubbed her tired eyes and blinked into focus. She immediately realized the fireplace, the white, immaculate walls, and the beautiful red carpet.

Her heart plummeted as she realized she was not home in her uncomfortable narrow bed. She looked down at the clothes she didn't recognized and then turned her head.

And there he was, sleeping right next to her, his body right up against hers. Lucy didn't move a single inch, her mind racing. How did she end up in his apartment again? And why were they asleep on the couch?

Slowly, her memory returned to her. She had shown up at his door with an invitation, soaking wet and cold. He had welcomed her in, sat her down, changed her…

Changed her!

Lucy's entire face burned with complete and utter embarrassment. He had seen her naked-

Lucy pressed her hand against her chest and relief flooded her entire body. Her bra was still on.

Okay, so he had seen her half naked. But still, she felt the feeling of mortification wash over her. He had probably been with beautiful women all with skinny, fit bodies. And she was some short, squat girl with big hips. He probably thought she was downright unattractive.

She felt his body shift a little and she clamped her eyes shut, pretending to sleep once again. She felt the couch shift and his body part from hers. Slowly, she felt him get up from the couch. Her back grew cold at the emptiness.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder, but remained still. He gave her a gentle shake, but she was too nervous to open her eyes. He kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Lucy darling, wake up," he whispered in his deep, velvety voice. Lucy slowly opened her eyes, just as she had before, and found Will to be crouched by her side.

His hair was a bit of a mess, but she found she liked it that way. His shirt was still unbuttoned and his slacks were a bit wrinkled. She noticed his eyes were a bit red and sleepy, but still a brilliant shade of green. He gentle rubbed her arm a bit as Lucy continued to wake up. She liked the feeling of him being next to her, waking her up. She felt safe, secure that he had been sleeping right next to her all night, keeping away anything that may harm her, protecting her. Lucy felt a yawn slip from her mouth and Will chuckled at the face she had made.

"Glad to see you're awake, little bird. You scared me terribly last night," he told her. Lucy sat up and tucked a hair away from her face.

"I didn't mean to be a burden," she apologized. "I'll be going now," she told him as she pulled the blanket off her legs. Will placed his hand over hers and stopped her from moving.

"You're never a burden to me, Lucy."


	13. Chapter 13

**I know, a bit short but its really...fluffy. By the way, what time zone/ area of the US and/or country do you guys reside in? I feel like the majority of the reviews roll in around 2-4 in the morning where I am. Just a bit curious. Thanks 100% for all the support, you guys rock!**

* * *

Lucy felt a chill work up her spine as Will looked right at her. Slowly, he took her hands and held them in his without breaking his gaze. Lucy's lips quivered a bit as her heart overflowed with emotion. She felt a surge of happiness course through her veins. It was Will that was giving off the emotion, and Lucy eagerly sopped it up.

"Remember that Lucy. Whenever you need me, I will be there," he whispered in a deep, husky voice. "No matter the circumstance."

Lucy nodded as she tried to regain her breath. What she felt for Will had magnified tenfold. She couldn't explain what made her so open to him, but she couldn't help it. Around him, she wore her heart on her sleeve without shame. Around him, she could fall apart and he would piece her back together with a kiss. He would remind her that everything would be fine in the end.

Lucy needed him. She could see that now, just as he had once needed her. Will was lonely, just as she was. All he had needed was a little tender love. And Lucy had no objection to giving him such love and devotion.

Slowly, Will's gaze shifted to her lips. His eyes flickered with a new emotion. He dropped Lucy's hands and placed his on her thighs. With slight hesitation, his face grew closer. Lucy felt her flicker close on instinct. His lips brushed hers, ever so lightly that she wasn't entirely sure they were even touching. His warm, soft hand cradled her chin. With a bit of force, he brought her face closer to his. His grip on her thigh grew tighter and Lucy felt herself begin to lose a bit of control.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt his mouth open slightly, and his tongue graze her lips. She followed his lead and opened her mouth only an inch. With passion, his tongue slithered into her mouth. Their tongues flickered and danced. Lucy liked the warm feeling of their mouths connected. She felt her lungs burn, dying to inhale.

Gradually, Lucy felt Will's body weight press against hers. The two sunk into the couch, Will on top. For a moment, Will separated from Lucy and looked straight down at her, his chest heaving. He slipped one hand under neck, the other on the small of her back. He began to kiss her again, pulling her face close to his. With a sudden jerk, he pulled her up from the small of her back. Lucy felt herself sit atop his legs.

Lucy felt him trail kisses down her neck, nipping at a sensitive spot. Lucy bit her lip and shifted a bit. She was too embarrassed to make a sound, but squirmed a bit. Her entire body felt warm from his every kiss. Every nerve tingled with excitement and something else…something she didn't really understand.

Once again, she felt Will's body pressing against hers. She felt his large, powerful hands slip under the sweater and work their way upward. She held in any gasp, determined not to make a fool of herself. Will only broke away to remove her sweater. He tossed it on the floor without a care.

Lucy followed suit and began to unbutton his blue shirt. She had a bit of trouble and Will only chucked at her. She blushed in embarrassment, but Will didn't seem to really mind.

Lucy ran her fingers timidly over his chest and felt her heart leap as he laid against her. Carefully, tenderly, he removed her pants and she replicated the motion. Will dove down and kissed her neck down to her shoulders and bit a sensitive part. He worked down to the beginning of her chest without heisitation.

But when Lucy realized what had just happened, she panicked. Her entire body overflowed with fear, instead of whatever excitement she had just been feeling. Will must've picked up on it, since he slowed down. He held himself above her and gazed at her longingly for a moment before collapsing on her side. Just as before, he wrapped his arms around her and Lucy tangled herself in with long, loping limbs. Will pulled a warm blanket over them, but remained the way her was, her body fitting perfectly into his. Lucy still felt a little pinch from where he had bit her on the neck and she wondered if it would bruise.

"What a terribly gloomy day," Will sighed, his warm breath tickling her neck.

Lucy glanced out the window to find the snow had yet to cease. The sky was a boring shade of grey, as if God had taken an eraser and obliterated it. Snow fell in heavy sheets onto the dirty, slushy ground. The snow from the previous day had turned into an ugly mix of grey and black.

"A perfect day for doing just this," Lucy whispered. She felt Will's arms wrap a little tighter around her and his chin rest right atop her head.

"Tell me something about yourself Lucy," Will said. Lucy giggled and tried to hide her awkwardness.

"Like what?" Lucy asked, unsure what to say. She felt Will shrug behind her.

"I don't know…anything. A story."

Lucy thought for a moment. The first memory that jarred inside her head was of her mother sitting in her chair with a cup of tea, looking out the balcony window.

"When I was little, whenever there was a snowstorm like this, I'd always find my mom sitting in her chair, looking out the window. She always looked so terribly sad, but I never gained the courage to ask her why. But I'd always grab a blanket and sit on her lap and try to cheer her up. I'd make silly little drawings or tell her some of her favorite jokes. But at the end of the day, I'd always find her sitting at the piano, playing the same song over and over. And then she would go to sleep until early in the morning." Lucy recalled. "And I never found out why."

"You must miss them," Will murmured, his voice filled with sadness.

Lucy missed her family more than anything. Her family was one of those you only saw on those stupid cable sitcoms. Although they bickered and joked about each other, they loved one another more than anything. Lucy never really had many friends, but she could always go home at the end of every day and find her parents and Max waiting for her. Her father would read her a story, her mother would play a song on the piano. Max would play whatever game she chose, even if he thought it was stupid or childish. They were her everything.

And they were taken from her.

"More than anything," Lucy confided. "And what about your family?" Lucy asked, treading on thin ice.

She felt Will's aura of curiosity turn sour. She could feel his discomfort and immediately regretted asking him.

"My family…I'm not entirely close to them I fear. My father has sent me here as some form of punishment. My mother does not have the heart to disagree. And my brother…" He trailed off.

Lucy felt her heart sink with sorrow. She felt so terribly guilty for making him feel so awful. She didn't intend for her question to be so heart-wrenching. She was too afraid to move an inch, to utter a single syllable.

"My brother and I used to be quite close. But time has changed us both."

Lucy frowned at Will's situation. She couldn't understand not having a family to support and love you. He was all alone, not by circumstance, but by choice. His father denied him, his mother didn't stand up for him, and his brother was more of a stranger than anything else. Lucy lost her family due to an accident, not because they didn't care for her.

"I'm so sorry Will," Lucy apologized.

"Don't pity me, Lucy. I don't need such a wasted emotion," Will said coldly. Lucy turned around, facing him. She looked up at his stoic face and touched his chest, right over his heart.

She thought of every moment her family had shown her kindness. She thought of how her mother would always play that song she liked to dance to. She remembered the time her father had covered for her the time she spilled juice on the carpet. She thought of Max, and how he always helped her climb into their tree house. She wanted to badly for Will to experience what she had taken for granted for the first thirteen years of her life.

* * *

He couldn't entirely explain what he felt when she touched his chest. It was a feeling of warmth, of love, of compassion. He could see a tender, innocent Lucy giggling and smiling right at him as though he was glancing into her memory.

And then, he saw himself as a child alongside Thor playing some foolish game they always played as kids. Thor would always be the hero, and Loki the villain. No matter what, Thor would insist he won, even when Odin had sided with Loki. He remembered when his mother would slip him a sweet before bed or when Odin had shown him some of the Asgardian treasures.

He felt happy. He imagined this is how Lucy felt when she talked about her family. He craved the feeling of stability she always raved of. The feeling lingered a bit even when he felt her hand leave his chest, and he thought he would enjoy this feeling much more if it never left.

A surge of passion overtook him, and he grabbed Lucy's round face and kissed her. He didn't understand what it was about her that made him care so much, but he did. He never thought a mortal, a weak, stupid mortal, could hold such power over him.

But he knew the sands in the hourglass were draining and he would only have a few more moments like this before everything Lucy knew came to a change.

He wanted to make this ugly world better for her. He wanted every day of her life to be filled with genuine joy. He wanted every creation of hers to be of beauty, not because the world lacked it, but because it was all she knew. His reign of power was no longer just to prove he was worthy. No, it was much more than that now. It was to make a world worthy for Lucy, who had given so much. Everything she had done had been so selfless, and yet, so much was taken from her. She was alone in this ugly, filthy world. If it were up to Loki, he would take her to Asgard and show her true beauty.

But he knew he could never return there. That was no longer his home anymore, and he wasn't entirely sure it had ever been.

No, his place was with Lucy now.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello once again! I know the story is a bit tumultuous now with the whole lovey-dovey, but it is all leading up to the climax! Just keep working through these angsty chapters and I promise the real action is soon to come.**

* * *

Lucy could smell the stench of burning flesh. It was a familiar smell to her, one that would be permanently etched into her senses due to The Accident. It burned the inside of her nose and made the bile in her stomach rise into her throat, burning. She could feel the heat from the fire along with the odor of metal burning. Her sight was clouded with dark swirls of smoke. The smoke burned her eyes, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Her lungs burned with every inhale and her chest was constricted by something that lay heavy on her chest.

Lucy felt around her, solid ground surrounding her body. She touched what she thought was a splintered piece of wood that lay on her chest. With a push, she tried to lift the large weight on her shoulders. She found it to be much heavier than she thought. She pushed and lifted again until she felt a relief. Slowly, she stood up. She ran her hands over her entire body and found nothing was missing.

Lucy choked on the smoke and instinctively dropped to her knees. She covered her face with her sleeve and made her way over what seemed to be a pile of something. She felt her leg bump into something soft, and looked down.

A man with crystal blue eyes, wide open, stared right at her. His mouth was agape, blood flowing from a large gash in his head. Lucy noticed he was bleeding both from his nose and ears as well. Lucy jumped backwards and landed on something else – a woman, not much older than herself, dead as well.

She felt the vomit fill her mouth. She hunched over and gagged. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and shut her eyes closed as she crawled until she felt light hit her eyelids. Hesitantly, she reopened her eyes and looked around.

The New York City she had known so well was a dismantled mess. Buildings that used to stand proudly, looming over her, remained in a crumpled mess. Cracks in the street ran down as far as Lucy could see. Apartments burned, people screamed for mercy.

Lucy stood up and felt her head spin. There were so many people that needed her help that she didn't know where to start. Shadows crept around her, children cried for their mothers.

"Little bird, I thought I told you to stay far away."

Lucy whipped around and swayed a bit, losing her footing. Will stood in front of her, all six feet three inches of him, unharmed. She didn't like the look on his face – a proud, selfish smirk. Not a single scratch marred the gold armor and that set of horns sat self-important as ever.

"And now look at you. You're bleeding and all scratched up like the rest of them," he sneered. He wrapped an arm around her and led her down the street. "Come, I've been looking all over for you,"

Lucy dragged her feet and resisted another step.

"Where are we going?" she asked, wiggling under his grip. He glowered at her with a righteous smile.

"Home of course," he chuckled. Lucy looked up at him with a look of confusion.

Home? Where was home? The entire city was left to ruins.

"But these people, they need my help," Lucy told him, breaking free of his grasp. "We've got to save them!" she said in a hurried voice.

"Oh no Lucy. It's time to leave this place for a while," Will instructed her. Lucy felt herself being tugged back, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't resist. She squirmed and fought for her freedom. She didn't like this version of Will. He was arrogant and cold, power hungry and self righteous. She wanted back the Will that held her tightly and kissed her tenderly.

"Lucy!"

That voice. She had heard that voice so many times throughout her life. She knew it better that her own, cherished it more than anything.

And there he was, standing right in front of her. He was standing, but barely. Blood was pouring down his face and stained his favorite white hoodie. He looked just as she knew him to look. The same golden blonde hair swept off his handsome face. Two dark brown eyes kinder than a doe's.

Max. He was here, right in front of her.

"Max!" Lucy screamed. Her voice felt raw and broken and she fought viciously to get away from Will. She scratched, bit, and flung her limbs all over. She felt her fist connect to skin and continued to fight. She needed to get to Max. She needed to save him. She couldn't let him go again.

With a simple swipe of Will's hand, she watched Max fall to his knees and collapse onto the ground. She saw the blood spread throughout the crackled street.

"Come dear, we must depart."

Lucy shot up from her bed, her entire body drenched in sweat. Vomit stained her pillowcase and she was pretty sure the warmth in her bed wasn't just from her body heat. Lucy, disgusted with herself, got out of her bed. She peeled off her pants and shirt along with her bed sheets. She threw all of them in the washing machine and took a cold shower.

It had been a while since she had a dream like that. The last one she had was about Will, and that had been months ago. She thought she was over that schtick…

Lucy turned off the water and dried herself off. She changed into clean clothes and sunk to the bathroom floor. She pressed her cheek against the cold tile and closed her eyes.

Every bit of the dream seemed so real. She could still smell the carnage, see the blood, feel the panic. The only thing that struck her as impossible was Max, but that could just be her subconscious.

After all, it all happened exactly nine years ago to the day. Lucy cringed at the thought that another year had passed right before her.

Lucy pushed herself up from the floor. If that dream had even an ounce of truth, something terrible was going to happen soon. And it all somehow involved Will. Part of her knew that she couldn't have a normal relationship with Will. That there would always been something in the way of conventional happiness. But she had accepted those terms when she kissed him.

Lucy left the bathroom. She removed the phone from the wall, locked the door, shut the blinds, and turned off her cell phone. She pulled her last piece of canvas from the closet and set it down on the easel. She paced the floor for a while, thinking. She thought about Max. She thought about Will. She thought about her dream.

And then, she began to paint.

* * *

Loki bowed to his benefactor. This wasn't a trip he had planned. No, he had be summoned to Titan for something he had done wrong.

"You've spent enough time toying with that mortal girl," his benefactor scolded him. "I didn't promise you an army to protect your little empath."

Loki stood from his kneeling position, but kept his head bowed. Although he hated to admit it, his benefactor was far too powerful to combat in his current state. Perhaps with the Tesseract and Lucy, he stood a chance. But at that moment, he was a sitting duck.

"You will commence the plan in eight days. If you do no, I will see to it that your little mortal is no longer a distraction."

Loki bowed his head and departed without argument. He had known his time with Lucy was limited, but not to eight Midgardian days. He recalled that Lucy's art exhibit was in five days and the panic began to weigh on him a bit more. He needed more time with her. He didn't want to destroy everything she knew just yet.

He wanted to know every inch of her skin like the back of his hand. He wanted to kiss every part of her. He wanted to commit the exact color of her eyes to memory, so that every time he closed his, all he saw was hers, shining in the dark. He wanted to count the freckles on her nose and watch her paint once more. There were so many things left undone he knew he could never attend to. He yearned for those moments by the fire where it seemed everything had stopped. Every region of the universe ceased to exist. All that lived and breathed was them and that was all that mattered.

He began to think back when this desire for Lucy began. He recalled the first time he had watched her paint, but he knew it was far before that. He felt the connection when he first met her in the middle of the street. He felt the attraction when he came to her rescue from the speeding truck.

It seemed as though he always cared for her.

His biggest regret was not that he pursued her. Although it made everything so terribly difficult, he couldn't imagine not being with her. No, he regretted far more the time he had wasted not caring for her. He wished to take back every moment he spent loathing her and instead, love her.

_Love_ he thought curiously. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

Why had it been so hard to see that Lucy was much more than an outlet of power? She was kind, compassionate, and talented. He could scathe her with remarks and yet she would still give him the benefit of the doubt. He had originally thought this was moronic – that she simply didn't understand he was being cruel. He was starting to understand that was no longer a bad thing.

Despite his attraction for Lucy, he still had a job to do. Midgard was still overrun with filth and corruption. Mortals that roamed the planet needed to be ruled. They were born needing leadership from a wiser being. And he was just the worthy one to do it.

Loki still needed to annihilate those foolish Avengers as well. And now that he had Lucy's devotion, he knew he could set her on that task. It would be rather simple for her to do. All he had to do was lead her in the right direction, right under his hand. She would look quite nice next to him on the throne. She would make an excellent queen with her superior talents.

Loki grinned at the very thought of them together, reigning over the miserable mortals. Under his rule, war would cease and famine would end. He would make a beautiful world for Lucy to wake up to every morning.

Loki returned to Midgard in urgency. He felt the need to see Lucy and enjoy her presence. He dialed her number on the ridiculous piece of technology, but found she did not answer. After repeat calls, he concluded she was not picking up.

Loki rang her buzzer several times to find her refusing to answer. Frustrated, he returned to his apartment. He began to pace, a panic rising.

Had she found out something? He never did find out how she had painted him in Asgardian clothing. Could it be that his little bird was betraying him?

"Damn it all," Loki muttered.

Angrily, he stormed into his apartment and began to think a bit more.

Lucy must be completely dependable at all times. And yet, she was refusing to answer. Had it been a fluke, or was she truly avoiding him? No, something was wrong with Lucy.

Loki didn't like where this was leading.

* * *

Lucy cringed every time she heard the subtle buzz of the doorbell.

She knew it was Will, but she could not bear to answer. Today was her day to spend absorbed in her own misery. She wanted to spend the gloomy day finishing the last painting for the art exhibit. It was only five days away and she was beginning to feel overwhelmingly anxious. Would she make enough money to save Max? Or would she come up short, and be forced to pull the plug…

Also, she could not shake the horror of her dream. It was almost as though the real Will and the dream Will were melding together in her mind.

Lucy chewed her lip until she tasted blood. She would have to call him first thing tomorrow and apologize about her absence. She had promised herself long ago she would help Will, regardless of the consequences. If having terrible nightmares was one of them, so be it.

Lucy also knew she had to figure out if the dream had a grain of truth about it. If something cataclysmic was going to happen, her only hints were in her dreams. Although terrifying, she would have to endure them. She would not let another accident happen to her. She couldn't bear to lose anything else in her life.

With a swift stroke, Lucy added her signature to the last painting and let it dry on the easel. She padded over to the sink and began to clean her brushes. She thought of a million meanings and possibilities behind her twisted dream. Her brain began to swirl with endless possibilities, one more obscure than the next. From a simple breaking up to the end of the world, Lucy had thought of it all.

But in every possibility, it seemed Lucy concluded Will was hiding something major from her. But what could he possibly be lying about? She could not detect any false emotion when he spoke to her, held her, kissed her…no, all those emotions were genuine.

So what was it about Will that her body rejected so much? She had thought it had just been a simple matter of false emotions. Her heart warning her he was playing with her. And yet, she was so certain he cared for her.

Lucy's head swam with confusion. She sat down on the sofa and buried her face in her hands. Never in her life had she felt so misguided.

"And this is why I never dated," Lucy muttered.


	15. Chapter 15

Lucy rolled over in her bed for the millionth time. Her blankets lay on the floor in a tangled mess, put there by her frustration. No matter how many times she closed her eyes and cleared her mind, she could not sleep. She had spent the better part of the month exhausted, and when she needed to sleep most, it evaded her.

She needed to sleep so she could dream. She heard her alarm clock ticking away, each precious second escaping her. She felt the future pressing down on her shoulders. She needed to figure out what her cryptic dreams were warning her about this time, and perhaps how she could stop it. She rearranged herself again in an impossibly uncomfortable position and huffed a heavy sigh. She covered her clamped eyes with her hand and repeated a mantra over and over until the words sounded funny in her head.

Everything in Lucy's life seemed to be right out of her grip of control. She would get so close to working it all out, and then, just in the nick of time, it would spiral from her. No matter what, she was never content with what she had, and could never seem to reach what she was striving for. A door at the end of the hallway she would never reach because she was too busy tripping over the carpet.

Frustrated with herself, she sat up at the edge of the bed. She let her feet dangle inches above the floor and tried to clear her mind. She set her feet on the cold wood floor and walked into her living room.

Right smack in the middle stood six canvases. Slowly, Lucy paced past each once, nit picking every single inch of canvas. She was pretty happy with herself and her workmanship, but doubt still sat heavy in her heart and on her mind. If she couldn't sell all six, what would she do for money? She would have to take up a part time job, but she knew she still wouldn't get the money in time. She was staring at life and death in her own living room.

Sell each one, and life would move on as normal. Fail, and she would be attending another funeral. It would be like having to watch Max die all over again, and she wasn't entirely sure she had the heart to do that again. For a moment, a thought flickered in her delusional head. She could ask Will for money, or maybe Roxie. She would pay them back when she could.

_No_, Lucy thought. _I could never do that._

She didn't want hand outs. She didn't want to be the girl who couldn't hack it in the real world. And owing your friends money was never a particularly amiable situation. Especially since Lucy didn't know how she would even pay for next month's medical bills.

She would have to work harder and longer. She couldn't get a high paying, full time job since she never went to college. She didn't have the money, and scholarships weren't exactly rolling in, so she figured herself better off sticking to painting. She had started a new life for herself in New York. She had been doing okay for herself too, making her own money, paying her own bills. But these new tests being run on Max cost a fortune. Lucy was living pay check to pay check as it was, and seeing extra thousands being tacked on was starting to really get to her.

Will was another story all together.

At first, he had been a figment in her mind. He was something to think about every night, right before she fell asleep. He was the outlet she needed, he had given her something to look forward every night.

And then she met him in real life. Although she had no concrete proof, she was almost positive he had saved her life. He held her together when she thought she might crumble into millions of pieces. Kept her going, gave her a reason to wake up in the morning. But now, with the dreams rolling in like the dark clouds before a torrential rainstorm, Lucy realized the calm before the storm was quickly coming to an end. She had thought Will's secret was his inconsistency, but that problem had come to pass. Yet, she was still haunted by graphic and violent nightmares, all of which included not only Will, but Max.

But Max was in coma, and had been for years. Only a miracle could bring him back, and that was what Lucy was holding onto. A glimmering hope that things would turn out to be okay in the end. Because she was suffering to get through the day, and the very thought of her life amounting to little to nothing was enough to stop her from doing much of anything.

Slowly, she crept onto the balcony. She didn't care that she was absolutely freezing and that every time the wind blew her entire body prickled in pain. She needed the shock of cold to snap her out of the slump she felt herself falling in. She watched the rolling sky turn from pitch black to a hazy winter morning. She kept her feet planted on the cold concrete until her toes went numb.

Lucy had only lived a short twenty two years, but she felt so much older. Most people her age were having fun, going to parties, getting their first real job…experiencing the things Lucy never would get to appreciate. She had been launched into reality far too fast for her dreamy personality. She never wanted this kind of life. The type where she fell apart at the slightest budge. She didn't want to live paycheck to paycheck. She didn't want to need anyone like she needed Will or Roxie.

Lucy retreated back into the warmth of her apartment and glanced at the wall clock. She wasn't really sure how long she had been standing out on the balcony for, but it was long enough for her to gain the courage to call Will.

Or at least she thought. When she picked up the cell phone, she froze at the sight of his number. Lucy knew it was foolish to be so afraid. Avoiding Will would not change the fact that something was terribly amiss. Running away would not make her problems disappear. Hiding them in a portrait wouldn't either – not this time. But just as she had summoned the strength, her phone lit up with a number she recognized all too well.

She hesitated to answer, but shook away her nerves and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hello," she stuttered. Her heart raced and she clamored to the sofa, her head spinning like a top.

"Hello Miss Levins. I believe you may want to get to the hospice as soon as possible."

And without a bit of doubt in her heart, Lucy grabbed her jacket and ran out the door. She walked down her hallway to the elevator, but found herself running by the time she got to the entrance. She hailed a taxi in the nick of time.

Was it truly possible? Was her dream really becoming a reality?

Her stomach flopped around as she began to think. If it was true, and Max really was awake, then there was a good chance that whatever happened in her dream may also come true. But that didn't make much sense, seeing as her dream foretold the complete and utter destruction of New York.

Looking at the skyscrapers, Lucy couldn't genuinely believe they could ever fall to the crumbled mess she had seen. She didn't think that the ground could crack entirely, or that thousands of people would really be begging to help. It was impossible to fathom. Surely, it must be some sort of sub conscious exaggeration. Perhaps there would be a snowstorm.

Or the dream could be less literal. There could be some symbolic reason behind the utter destruction, though she couldn't really think of one at that moment. Truthfully, it all seemed rather irrelevant to her. There was a damn good chance that Max was awake, and Lucy didn't really care what consequences came with that. She had waited most of her adult life to hear Max's voice again, see him smile…

The world could end and Lucy would be happy knowing her last moments were spent with Max.

Loki sat down on Lucy's small sofa with a frustrated sigh.

Where could she have possibly gone? Her front door had been open, along with the balcony door. Her bed had been ripped apart and clothes were flung precariously on her floor. If he didn't know any better, he would've suspected foul play.

Loki toured the apartment and took inventory of everything. He didn't see anything that hinted she knew any valid information on him. She hadn't appeared to have relocated, since everything she owned was still in the apartment. He focused his attention on the six concealed paintings in the center of the living room. One by one he lifted the linen that covered them. At first, he hadn't been very surprised.

But the sixth painting had wrenched his heart. It was a portrait of him. It was seemingly normal – dressed in a grey suit on Lucy's orange sofa. It really was quite good, and looked just like him.

It was the golden horns that pricked his curiosity. Once again, she had shown knowledge of his otherworldliness. And yet, never once did she bring it into conversation. She did not even give an inkling that she knew his secret. So how could she have possibly created two paintings of him with Asgardian clothing? It was far too precise to be any kind of coincidence.

Loki covered the painting once again, but it didn't shroud his curiosity. If he brought it up to her in conversation, would she admit to knowing something? No, he doubted it. She was far too unargumentative to ever confront him on such matters. And what if she didn't want him to know that she was aware of his true origin?

Was Lucy hiding something from him?

His mind swirled with a thousand possibilities, but decided on staying in the apartment until Lucy returned. He would figure out this enigma of a mortal within the day. He didn't have time to base off of mere assumptions. There was no more room for error. Thanos made it clear that if the strike didn't occur soon, it would not only be the end of him, but the end of Lucy.

If he had been stronger, he would've slain Thanos right there. Loki was smarter than that. He was not arrogant and selfish like his brother had been. He knew he must bide his time and his strengths and eventually, Thanos would meet his end. Loki knew that creature was a ticking time bomb, once set to explode right in Loki's face.

He could not put Lucy's life in jeopardy. Despite her overall unreliability, Loki couldn't shake his attachment to her. From a logical view, it would appear Lucy was just collateral, and if anything, was a detriment to his overall plan. Yet Loki knew logic no longer played much of a role in his arrangement. He was playing with hearts now, which was far more dangerous than any game of sense.

It was a different, more complicated form of trickery. The wise choice and the right choice were hardly ever the same thing. Lucy wasn't a chess pawn he could skip from square to square at the snap of a finger. Only through seduction and affection would she willingly put herself on the front lines. Even so, Loki was afraid to send his Queen out in fear she would only get check mated. And he knew he couldn't lose her that easily.

He had fought too long and too hard to get her. She was the most valuble piece in his inventory. Not to mention he…cared for her. Not only would her death be inconvienent, but utterly depressing.

He somewhat enjoyed her company. He had grown quite accustomed to having her around. And although it killed him to admit it, he truly did care for her, manipulations aside. It was all for the greater good in the end. If she had to struggle a bit now, so be it. He would give her the Kingdom of Heaven to cherish and to rule. Such magnificent gifts could only be created through bloodshed. And she might despise him at first, but so be it.

In the end, she would fall back to him. She would need him so desperately that there would be no way to refuse. Lucy would finally be all his, and not a single obstacle would stand in his way.

Loki began to think of how he would welcome her into her own apartment. He craved her a bit at the moment, and wouldn't mind indulging himself a little. Besides, it was delightfully adorable to watch her emotions fluctuate so, to feel her love for him as well as her modesty. She was fighting a losing battle though, and Loki knew that. Her wants would outweigh her modesty, just as it had before.

He couldn't resist the chase.


	16. SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi everyone, sorry I haven't been able to update, but I'm going on an emergency trip to Italy for my aunt's funeral. I will be back on Friday June 22 and will add the next chapter then. I am so extremely sorry for the inconvenience. I hope this will not affect your interest in the story, both old reader and new. Thank you for all the reviews and comments, and I am so sorry that I have to take a short break during a very emotionally charged part of the story.

Sincerely,

Lily


	17. Chapter 16

Lucy jumped out from the taxi and inhaled the cold, bitter air into her lungs. Her chest stung, but she ignored the pain and sauntered into the hospice. The overwhelming feeling of fear and excitement was enough to make her legs collapse from right under her as she walked down the hall to Max's room. Her head was spinning with a thousand thoughts and she tried to find words to speak to him if he was awake. She wondered what he wanted to hear and how much she would have to tell him. How the world had changed while he had remained still. The very thought was enough to make Lucy nervous.

As the elevator ascended, Lucy felt her stomach remain on the first floor. Although it was possible he had awakened, it wasn't probable. The doctor could just as easily tell her that he had no chance of never waking again. That he was better off being dead. Lucy shook her head and dispelled all the bad thoughts building in her head. She would not believe he was dead. She would refuse the bad news and replace it with good, even if it was all one big lie.

The elevator dinged cheerfully and Lucy exited the elevator with a new sense of dread dragging in the soles of her feet. Her sudden optimism was fading with every echoing step of her sneakers. As she approached the door, she found herself afraid to turn the knob.

But she did anyway.

The room was empty with the exception of Max lying perfectly still, just as he always was. His light hair was pushed to one side, off his face. He looked serene as usual, and the only sound in the room was the trills and beeps of the machines that surrounded him like a protective moat.

But there weren't doctors buzzing around him, and Lucy wasn't entirely sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Then again, it was better that things had remained relatively unchanged. But if nothing changed, why was she so urgently called upon by Max's doctor?

Her mind didn't have much time to wander. Max's doctor broke the relative silence as he swung the door open, clipboard in tow. He checked off a few secret things and then looked up at Lucy

"Ah, Miss Levins, perfect timing," he said with a grin. He pushed his glasses up a bit and placed the clipboard on the hospital bed.

"Is there something wrong with him?" Lucy asked cautiously. The doctor chuckled and shook his head.

"Quite the contrary, Lucy. Some recent tests showed that he has a much higher chance of waking up than we originally hypothesized. Hopefully with some specialized treatment, we can get a bit of a rise out of him."

At first, Lucy couldn't fully digest what she had heard. The words hit her slowly, like molasses leaking into her brain, through her veins, and back around, circulating her body. She leaned against the nearest stationary piece of furniture and reminded herself to breath as her mind fully understood what she had just been told.

She breathed in the sweet air and felt every tense muscle in her body relax. She hadn't realized she had been so tensed and enjoyed the sensation. The doctor said a rush of information after that, but Lucy couldn't seem to quite understand what he was saying. It was like trying to understand a difference language all together. Finally, the doctor left her alone in the room, and Lucy sunk into the chair next to Max's bedside.

_He's…getting better_ Lucy thought simply. Under his still eyelids, a mess of activity was going on as his brain tried to cope with the trauma. Slowly, his body would heal inside just as it had out. She knew know it was a million times more important that she make the money to keep him alive. Pulling the plug now would be even more than a murder than before.

Lucy sunk lower in the plastic chair and began to think about what she would do is Max really did wake up. She supposed the first thing she'd do would be to take him out to dinner, show him New York. He would have to live in her apartment until she could find something all for himself. Lucy thought of her studio, and how insurance would pay for most the repairs and remodeling. A new refrigerator, a nice paint job, and perhaps Max could call it home. The rent was pretty cheap and the side of town wasn't too bad.

This was all under the assumption Max would be coherent. If he wasn't, then he would have to live with her. Or worse, in a hospice for mentally handicapped. But that was a last resort. She didn't want to have to visit a hospital just to see her brother. That, and she wasn't sure she could pay for that with her salary. If Max was functioning, she was sure he could get a high school diploma. He always had been very bright, even as a kid. Give him a problem and he'd have a solution.

Lucy stayed for a bit longer, taking in every possibility, but always reverting back to her foolish assumptions. She thought about spending holidays together, getting dinner together, and making up for lost time. She wondered how she would tell him mom and dad were dead and how he would react. Perhaps he wouldn't remember a single thing – possibly the best route for him. He could start from scratch and not have to grieve what had happened so many years ago.

When Lucy finally left the hospice, she was greeted by a gust of freezing wind and a few snowflakes land on her nose. She stuck out her tongue and felt a cool pinprick land on her wet tongue. She smiled at the snowflakes and hailed another taxi, which took a bit of patience. It had been snowing more than usual in New York, but Lucy didn't mind that much. Max was getting better and that seemed to cancel out any bad news that plagued her mind. She let her mind drift and her eyes wander as she traveled in the taxi. When she arrived at her apartment building, she climbed the stairs in twos, eager to get home.

Lucy slid the key in the lock and opened the door. She turned the key, but the door was already unlocked. She shook her head and realized she had left the house in such a hurry, she forgot to lock the door. In a huff, she placed her bag down on the kitchen table and sighed, letting her hair fall out of the clip it had been tightly pulled into all day. She then looked up from the ground and felt her heart plummet.

"Will! Sorry, I didn't see you there," Lucy apologized. She felt a blush creep up on her face as she realized she must've looked completely stupid for both leaving her door unlocked and busting in like some kind of nut. "Why are you here?" she asked. She quickly shut her mouth at the rude tone in her voice.

Will cocked his head to the side and gave Lucy a very peculiar look. She felt her heart beat a little faster at that handsome pout. She didn't know why a man as handsome as Will was wasting his time on her. He was handsome in a delicate way. His skin was as white and pure as marble. He smirked, his thin but deft lips making Lucy quiver a little. He had this profound control over Lucy. She could feel his emotion without even being near him. It practically radiated off him.

She could feel his mood, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. She bit her lip as she tried to figure it out.

William stood up, his grin growing. He quirked an eyebrow and walked across the room with a graceful, slow pace.

"Am I not allowed just to spend time with you?" he said quietly, almost a whisper. She could feel her heart ache a little. She didn't understand what it was, but this emotion almost made her dizzy. Lucy's mind started to become a little clouded.

Will grew closer as his eyes narrowed like a devilish fox. Lucy backed up until she felt herself bump into the kitchen counter. She felt her breath starting to quicken.

Loki could hear her meager little heart beat crazily. He felt her blood warm, her cheeks grow pink un uncertainty. He liked this feeling of power, how she could mimic every emotion he had. He loved to see her squirm with anticipation as she tried to figure out what each emotion was definitively. He knew she had never felt this one before, so it would be especially wonderful to trick her with it.

Lust; it was more than her small, pattering heart could handle.

Loki slipped his careful hands over her jaw and pulled her into him. He, very gently, pressed his lips on hers. He could taste the nervousness in her lips. Slowly, he pulled away, examining her very shocked face.

"Will…I-"

Loki pressed a finger over her lips to silence her.

Lucy could feel her heart hammering as the room became overwhelming hot. At his touch, she felt the ravenous hunger take over her. She wanted to so badly, but her mind doted her, reminding her this isn't what she wanted.

"Little bird, do not fight it," he whispered softly in her ear. His lips pressed softly against the flesh of her ear and trailed down her neck. Lucy felt the heat in each kiss, driving her to madness.

_No Lucy, do not let him win this_, she told herself. This power of hers was not going to consume her.

"William, please," she begged.

But "William" would not listen. With a rough hand, he grabbed her jaw again and pushed her against the counter with all his might. He slipped his warm, careful tongue into her mouth and Lucy felt her insides flop around like a fish out of water.

_So this is what it feels like. To be kissed, to be held tenderly_, Lucy thought. She had never gotten to feel like this before. She always avoided it, feared that something would go amiss. That her touch would ruin something.

She could not explain the overbearing emotion that was on the brink of controlling her. It was though every part of her body ached to touch his with white hot insanity.

Loki smirked as he felt her starting to lose all control. He snaked his hands on the back of her thighs and slipped her on top the counter. Even as she sat on the granite countertop, Loki still towered her small frame. He found it quite astonishing how small Lucy was, and quite enjoyed how easy it was to toss her around.

Lucy felt his cool lips all over her, leaving her with a sense of warmness all over. But when he slipped his hands under her dress, she felt herself panic. She drew back, like an elusive little creature and pushed him away.

"Will I-I can't…We can't possibly," she gasped as she tried to suck in the air she had been deprived of.

"What's wrong little bird? Don't you want this?" he asked as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Lucy clamped her jaw shut, her face growing redder than before in embarrassment. She did want it whenever he touched her. But as he remained a safe distance away, she felt herself simmer down. She grew self conscious of her appearance and quickly crossed her legs and her arms.

"I do-did um, I don't really but…I just can't-"

Once again, Loki smiled at her lack of confidence. He chuckled a bit and pressed his thumb over her lips, silencing her.

"Does it make you nervous that I will be the first man to ever bed you?"

Lucy gasped and slinked back on the counter, her back hitting against the wall. How had he known? Was it that obvious that she had never been with anyone before? She felt an emotion she knew quite well: mortified.

"And how do you know that?" Lucy asked as she pulled down the hem of her dress.

Will chuckled a wholesome chuckle and grabbed her thighs, pulling Lucy close to him again.

"Don't feel embarrassed Lucy. I think it's quite endearing."

Loki felt his own heart pound with excitement. Seeing Lucy all riled up was so deliciously fun he decided he must do it again.

But when he touched her again, he felt a little odd. His all consuming need for power melted a bit into something a little different. He felt like he…

Like he truly craved her.

He began to kiss her again and caressed her soft skin. He slowly worked his graceful hands to her back. Slowly, he removed her shirt.

Loki slipped his hands under her thighs and picked her up. Her small, thin legs wrapped around his waist, her shoes falling to the ground. He carried her to the bed and carefully set her down on the white cotton sheets.

Loki looked down at Lucy. Just the mere sight of her under him made him ravenous with lust. He felt the overwhelming need for dominance take over him to the point of no control. She gasped for breath, her small, birdish face pink with pleasure.

"You are mine alone, Lucy," Loki whispered in a gruff voice. He heard a whimper escape her lips, her face scrunching up like a nervous child.

Slowly, he pulled the pants past her knees and off her legs. He tossed the meaningless dress on the floor and took in her body.

He dove down and bit the flesh of her collarbone. He felt her back arch with pleasure as she clamped her lips tightly together.

Lucy's shaking hands pulled back the suit jacket and gave the tie a yank, slipping it over Will's head. He stared right into her and watched her as she began to pull apart the layers of clothing. She unbuttoned his shirt, letting the white collared shirt hang open. She caressed his chest, gliding her fingers over the cold, pale skin.

Loki took notice of every inch of skin Lucy was showing. He could see now she was quite curvaceous for such a small creature, with womanly hips and a fairly large bust. He had never bed a woman quite like Lucy. She was soft and sensuous, but timid. She still lacked the confidence Loki had seen in every other woman he had ever been with.

But those were goddesses. Lucy was a mere mortal.

Loki grabbed her hands and forcibly held them over her head, gripping her wrists. He felt her attempt to wiggle away, becoming nervous at his force. But he could not bear it any longer; he could no longer control the temptation and forgot about the gentleness he had internally lectured himself about.

Loki began to nibble every each of Lucy, leaving small, red bruises all over her skin. It excited him how easily her gentle skin bruised. He found he could not control the temptation.

Loki removed his shirt and Lucy, with her small, warm hands unbuckled his belt. But when she was about to unzip his trousers, she hesitated.

Lucy looked up at him with her large, dark eyes with fear. Loki could now feel that her lust was turning into dread.

Loki wrapped his hand over her small, delicate fingers and pulled down his trousers.

Lucy took note that both of them were in their under garments and felt her modesty take over her.

"Do not worry, little one," Will consoled her, kissing her forehead. "I will try to be gentle."

But Loki knew it was a losing battle. He truly wanted to love her sweetly, but his passion was far too overbearing. Slowly, he pulled the straps of her bra down her shoulders and kissed both tenderly. He reached around her back and undid the clasps, the bra springing up over her breasts.

Lucy's arms flew over her exposed chest with embarrassment. She didn't know if Will preferred them or not and that made her quite self conscious.

Loki chuckled again at her silly tactics of modesty and warmly grabbed both arms in his large, soft hands. He kissed her bosom, and nipped the most sensitive areas. Lucy whimpered once again, like a small, hurt bird. Loki was sent into lustful rage he could no longer control.

Loki quickly ripped her white, cotton underwear off her legs and threw them on the floor and pressed his body against her naked curves. He could now hear her breathing quite heavily, small sighs escaping her pink lips.

Lucy ached for Will. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her. She felt him shed his boxers, his now completely naked body, pressed against hers. She had never felt such lust before. She wanted to be with him like this every moment.

Without heisitation, Loki slipped inside her. Lucy gasped, her entire body cringing. Loki thrusted deep inside her ravenously, eager to pleasure her. Lucy moaned in pain at the sudden burst and writhed under Loki's weight as he continued his roughness. He once again trapped her hands over her head, forcing himself into her. Her small chirps of pain only sent Loki into fits of passion, his pace quickening with each sigh that escaped her lips

"Will…it hurts," she shuddered.

Loki's sudden burst of lust fizzled a bit as he saw Lucy's pained expression. Her face was quite red, her brows scrunched. A droplet of sweat gathered at her forehead. Slowly, Loki pulled himself out, only making her squirm more.

"Lucy darling," he whispered, gently kissing her forehead. "I'll stop-"

"No Will, don't," she commanded, her eyes clamped shut. "Please don't," she begged.

And for the final time, Loki surged with dominance and entered her again. Their hips bucked together and Lucy began to sigh again with pain more severe than before. Will was using more force than ever, sending her into a wave of hurt. But Lucy also felt a great deal of pleasure as he continued to press himself against her.

Loki took notice of her moans, not marked with pain, but with joy. He could feel his own blood begin to bubble with ecstasy as he continued to push her limits. Loki lifted her legs, wrapped them around his waist and pulled her hips up with him. She cried out at the sudden burst, her lithe body shaking. Seeing her face filled with bliss only made him crave her even more. She pulled on his ink black hair, and Loki smiled at her gesture.

Her burst of moans only seemed to escalate with each buck of his hips. He himself could feel his pattern of breath spiral out of control. Lucy teetered at the edge of her climax, eager to feel the sudden burst.

"William…" she gasped as she twisted the bed sheets in her hands.

With one fatal thrust, both felt their bodies shake with the peak. Lucy cried in pleasure and Loki sighed with gratification. Both collapsed onto the bed, Loki falling to Lucy's side.

Lucy huffed with joy as her lust subsided. Loki took in every inch of her supple body and stroked her cheek tenderly as he looked into her dark eyes.

"Will."

He felt a twinge in his heart he could not ignore. He hated the way that name sounded with such sincere feelings behind it. He wished she had called him Loki, for that would make him once again, ravenous to ravish her.

He could not explain it, but he felt a very odd sensation. He did not feel victorious that he had ravished her, took control of her, bed her before any other creature. It was not pride that consumed his heart. No, rather he felt quite humbled by the lovemaking. He felt raw and exhausted.

"My brother…he's getting better," Lucy confided. He felt her chest rise and fall with every breath. He kissed her forehead tenderly and watched her eyes flutter closed. He listened to her breathing and took note of how her lips separated a bit as her body sagged with relaxation. He liked the way her hair was a mess, curls wrapping around her tender, sweet face.

He closed his eyes and began to let himself fall asleep as well. He didn't need to sleep – sleep was not required to keep him going. He was beyond the need for sleep, unlike Lucy, who was much weaker. No, he slept because he wanted to. He wanted to pretend, even for a few moments, that they were two very small mortals in a big universe. That they wouldn't have to face the end of the world together in the near approaching future. He pretended Lucy's little bed was their bed, and her cozy apartment was their home. He pretended Lucy was all his every day, every night.

He enjoyed that thought, and kept replaying it in his mind until he drifted off to sleep, where he dreamt of Lucy.


	18. Chapter 17

It was absolutely freezing, and Lucy couldn't move her body a single inch. The blinding lights forced her to keep her eyes closed, but she continued to try to keep them open. Her head was pounding and she felt an intense burning in her chest. It felt like she had swallowed fire and the embers continued to burn right next to her heart. She wanted to scream, but she found she had no control over her mouth.

She could hear dozens of voices all blending and falling out of sync. Her mind was a dizzying mess and she pried her eyes open. Faces blinked like flashing lights as Lucy tried to wrap her head around the words that were slurring throughout the room. Cold fingers drifted over her like thousands of little spiders, crawling and inching their way over her goose-bumped skin.

She felt her muscles shake uncontrollably from the cold. Every inch of her skin was aflame, every breath a stab to her ribcage. Her arms were constricted by leather straps that cut into her arms. She felt the warm blood trickle down and drip to the floor. She looked wildly for William to help her, tell these people to stop touching her and wrap himself around her.

She felt pain slice right down the middle of her torso as she tried to scream, tried to fight. Where was Will? Why couldn't she find him, and why couldn't he help her? She needed him.

Her stomach churned with acid that began to burn her throat. She knew the feeling all too well – she was going to vomit. She clamped her mouth shut and tried to focus on anything but the pain. She thought of a smile, two beautiful green eyes, warm hands caressing her.

And there he was, shaking her free, his face right next to hers. He pressed his cheek against hers, warm and soft. The voices grew louder, the hands tickled over her faster, no matter how Will tried.

"Lucy!"

She took in a breath and shot up from the bed, Lucy ripped off the bed covers and dropped to the floor. Slowly, she crawled to the bathroom, trying to breathe. But her throat had seemed to swell and she couldn't catch her breath. Her entire body was freezing, shivering at every desperate crawl. She clamored to the bathroom and rested her head against the seat of the toilet. She heaved until her stomach ached.

"Lucy darling," she heard, a whisper of a voice. She felt two strong arms hold her to a strong chest, and a heartbeat keep her breathing in sync. She felt dozens of blankets wrap around her shaking body, and a tender kiss on her forehead.

"You have to breathe Lucy darling. Try to stay awake now," the voice told her, velvety smooth and deep. A hand stroked back her hair from her sweating face.

"Will," she croaked, her voice raw and gasping.

She needed him to hold her tightly, remind her that is was just a dream. Painful and terrifying, but only a dream.

She was shaking far too much and her entire body was on fire. Sweat dripped down her flushed face and she murmured and muttered nonsensical phrases. Loki didn't understand what was happening, but he knew it wasn't normal. Not for an Asgardian and definitely not for a mortal. From every pore she was exuding absolute fear and pain, giving off any energy she had left.

It was almost as though she were dying.

She moaned in pain and Loki only grasped her tighter. What had brought on this attack? Just moments before she slept perfectly still. Her lids didn't flicker, her lips didn't quiver…had she seen something in her dreams?

"Little bird, you must keep breathing. It was just a night scare darling. I am here and that is all."

He began to feel her thrashing limbs come to a still quiver. She kept her eyes tightly sealed, but her cries ceased to a bit of a mumble. Her heart, her small heart, began to find a rhythm. Slowly, her large, dark eyes fluttered opened.

"Will," she whispered once again.

Loki loathed that name, despite how beautifully she said it. How long until she called him Loki?

"I'm so cold," she begged.

Loki held her tighter to his chest and tried not to scoff at the irony. A bastard frost giant trying his hardest to warm his mortal lover. What kind of sick mischief had he gotten himself into this time? It seemed his was on the wrong side of the butt of his own joke. He was such a trickster he fooled himself.

Slowly, he fell back to bed, Lucy cradled against him. He felt her ribcage rise and fall with each labored breath. She writhed and turned her swaddled body around, her face inches from him now. Her fingers crept around his jaw, and slowly, carefully, she kissed him. Her felt every ounce of pain and fear slice him in a dozen pieces. But he took the pain with pride, knowing her spirit was lifting with every graze of each others' tongue.

Slowly, the layers of blankets were untucked from her until both were naked, skin gently pressing together. Every buck, every kiss, every graze, he felt the pressure build more and more on his back. He could feel slicing pain rip him apart, but he didn't shy away.

He watched as the color returned to her pale face. Her eyes sparkled a bit more than before, and her voice was much stronger. She was no longer sweating from fever or moaning from pain – no, both resulted from pleasure now. He felt her grasp grow tighter, stronger. Her back arched and her lips parted with sighs.

It was this odd feeling of connection that drove him mad. He could feel a flow of power, of emotion drive right through him like a blade, piercing him right in the chest. She sighed her last and fell next to his side. Slowly, carefully, lovingly, he took in every each of her skin. Bruises, blue and black, spotted her entire body, as though she had been attacked. Gently, he ran his fingers over every once curiously.

"Little bird," he murmured. "What has happened?" he asked cautiously. Sleepily, she turned her face toward his.

"The dream," she muttered before drifting back into a slumber.

Loki wrapped his hands around her shoulders and shook her back into consciousness. She inhaled sharply and her eyes opened once again.

"What do you mean 'the dream'?" he asked urgently.

Perhaps Lucy had more than just a knack for reading emotions.

With awaken eyes, Lucy looked straight at Loki, a cutting glance filled with fear. Tears brimmed in the corners of her red eyes.

"Tell me Lucy, what did you dream of?"

Lucy buried her head in his chest, tears wetting his skin. She sniveled and he felt his heart ache a bit.

Odd, he didn't notice he had once of those until just now.

"I was tied down like some sort of animal. There were so many voice and hands, and it hurt so terribly bad, Will. I tried to find you, but even you couldn't help me."

"It was just a dream, love. It's all over now, I promise," Loki told her, stroking her cheek, wet with tears. "I won't let any harm come to you, little bird," he promised firmly. Lucy looked up at him with her dark, hypnotizing gaze. She shook her head demurely.

"Don't ever make that sort of promise, Will."

Loki felt an icy stab right to his chest. Lucy averted her eyes and avoided his gaze. He slipped a finger under her chin and brought her face to his.

"I will never let anything harm you Lucy," he repeated with much more strength and assertiveness in his voice. He kissed her once again and watched her eyes close without protest.

He decided that if he could spend his life in one moment for all eternity, this would be it. But time refused to stop for them. Without hesitation, with a stutter, it clicked on. Those five days had turned to three far too quickly. Time was a weathered soldier, never stopping at the face of battle. It would keep fighting no matter how everything else trembled. Every hour tolled the same as before. No one was more significant than the other in the eyes of time.

He feared he would never love Lucy this way again. War and death would drive them apart. There would always be a reason as to why they could not be. She was a mortal, but not just any mortal. One with great gifts and abilities, and a heart of the purest gold.

And he was a traitorous bastard who never got what was rightfully his. She would quiver at his command, but would she love him the same? Would she fear him with every fiber of her being? Would she loathe him for destructing all she ever knew, for lying to her with that silver tongue of his? Or would she love him with the same selfless heart as now?

He never wanted this – he never wanted her. She was foolish, emotional, unreliable…so where down the line had he started to care for her? Was it truly love at first sight? Or did he save her only because had something to gain? Well, he was wrong either way. It seemed that he was only losing by loving her. He could not have her for much longer. This world would come to an end very soon and such moments as these would cease to exist as well.

He heard the voice of Odin echo in his head a million times. He was just another relic, only good for a bit of a show. Well, he would show that damned man – he would have it all. The throne of Asgard, a beautiful Queen, and an army under his command, loyal and brave. He would do It because he had no other choice.


	19. Chapter 18

**Hello guys! Sorry for the wait, but I really wanted to take my time on this chapter, since it is crucial to the storyline. Just for the wait, I have three goodies for you guys in the form of songs and a polyvore link. I had two songs of inspiration for this chapter, which are I'll be seeing you by Billie Holiday (which is the song mentioned within the chapter) and Colorblind by Counting Crows. Lucy's outfit for the art showcase is : cgi/set?id=52321676. Once again, thank you so much for the love and support during one of the hardest times of my life. I truly love all of you :)**

* * *

Within the depths of SHIELD, Loki stood calm and poised, invisible to any human eye. The enclosed space was cool and dry, not a single beam of light anywhere to be found. The room was similar to a concrete coffin, dozens of feet below Earth's surface.

And there is was, tucked away inside a simple briefcase, manned only by two oblivious mortals. Loki wondered if they even knew what they were guarding, or if they could even fathom the power the small, glowing cube exuded. If they did, he was certain they would've already taken it for themselves. Although loyal employees of SHIELD, in the end, they were human. Their folly was their greed and always would be.

Loki paced the small enclosed room and took notes of all the nooks and points of weakness. He would plan his every move when he struck tomorrow night. He felt his confidence rise knowing the only two men he'd have to fend off were the mortal agents. That is, until he escaped the concrete coffin. Once he escaped SHIELD, it was a completely different game.

He knew exactly what his plan was. He would utilize Selvig and get his hands on the Tesseract. After his escape, he would toss Selvig's body in the dumpster behind his apartment and summon Lucy. Together, they would rendezvous at a small cabin in the woods of New York State, where he would gather his army and then shortly after, attack. It was a swift and easy plan, but effective.

With all things secured, Loki went onto the next phase of his plan for the night. With a flick of his wrist, the two agents fell into a deep slumber in which they would wake up from in a few hours. Poor boys couldn't stay awake on the task of protecting the more dangerous piece of technology in the universe. Loki smirked at with ease, gained access to the network of computers. Quickly, he found information on himself.

So, the fools had finally caught up to him. Only took two months to realize his presence on Midgard. Truthfully, he didn't know if he should be thankful or offended – if they thought he was a weak case, they were wrong. They would surely all perish during the attack.

The information seemed to be rather basic. There was quite a vivid description of his appearance and his upbringing. His love of trickery and magic was noted, but not in detail. He thought his own brother, now part of SHIELD, would've given a better description, but Thor was never one for detail. It was always the big picture with him, never the details that made it up. This made his brother a bit…lacking in vision, in ideas.

The only thing that brought Loki relief was that Lucy didn't seem to be in the database. The only Lucy was an older woman of about forty, who apparently was some sort of nurse. Relief flooded through him knowing that Lucy was safe, at least for a little while longer. He couldn't lose his little bird, not yet. He still needed her by his side for a while longer.

When he had gathered a substantial amount of information, Loki quickly departed from the depths of SHIELD. He parted ways with Selvig and made his way to his own apartment. He had some time to kill before he left for Lucy's art showcase. He didn't really mind waiting around due to his excitement. He very much liked the sight of his little bird chirping and hopping away with anticipation. Though he knew she was quite nervous about tonight as well, with her brother's life on the line. She blatantly objected when he offered her money while they were lying in bed. If they didn't have a splendid conversation before, he may have been offended.

He thought back to lying in her bed, holding her pure, lithe body in his arms. He could smell the sweet vanilla that radiated off her skin and could feel the warmth from her breath. He thought back to the conversation with a smile.

"Have you ever loved someone, Will?" Lucy asked tenderly. She looked at him with wide, sparkling brown eyes. Loki couldn't help but chuckle at her demure look."Don't make fun of me," she blushed, snuggling her head against his chest.

"I once loved my brother," he responded. Lucy was the one who giggled now.

"No, I mean like love between you and another woman."

Loki paused and thought about every woman he ever had. Yes, they were beautiful, strong, fierce women. But had he loved any of them? No, he had only bed them for ulterior reasons. Power, information…none of them were sincere from what he could recall.

"Then no, I suppose not," Loki responded firmly. Lucy sighed with disappointment. "Why do you want to know, little bird?" he asked.

"I wanted to know what it felt like," Lucy said simply. Loki met her gaze for a few moments without speaking. Her cheeks were a diffident shade of pink, her lips red and pouted.

"What do you think it feels like?" Loki asked. Lucy nibbled on her lip in thought, her brows knitted together. She sat up, wrapped a white sheet around her and rummaged through her closet and until he pulled out what looked to be some sort of case. She set it down on the table and opened it up. Loki craned his neck to get a better look at the contraption. Then, she pulled out a large, black circular disk and set it on the machine. She lifted what looked to be a needle and placed it on the spinning disk. Music slowly dripped out from the machine. Lucy began to sway, her back to Loki.

Slowly, Loki wrapped the other sheet around himself and crept behind her. He twirled her around to face him and wrapped one arm on her lower back, the other clasping her small, warm hand. She turned her face up and looked straight at him. He felt a chill creep from between his shoulders up his entire neck. She let one hand hang around the nape of his neck, barely reaching. Together, they swayed, their bodies pressed closely. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. She began to hum with the music, murmuring some of the words in a whisper.

_I'll find you_

_In the morning sun_

_And when the night is new_

_I'll be looking at the moon_

_But I'll be seeing you._

"That," Lucy murmured, "Is what love is."

* * *

Lucy zipped up the blue dress and slipped on her nude peep toe heels. She clipped the layered set of pearls around her neck and slipped on a pair of gold stud earrings.

And then she began to pace.

She had forgotten how spacious her living room was now that all the paintings were sitting in the gallery, waiting patiently to be unveiled. She thought of seeing Roxie there, Steve on her arm. She had been so happy when she agreed to bringing Steve. Lucy had the extra ticket, so she didn't see the harm in him coming. Well, that and Lucy would really enjoy for Roxie to give him a chance. He was a brilliantly handsome and kind gentleman and knew Roxie could like him if she let herself.

Lucy also thought of Will standing right in the middle of the gallery, waiting to greet her with a kiss and a hug. She wondered how handsome he would look tonight in his suit and scarf. She felt chills spread though her entire body, and she fought off the urge to run to his apartment just to see him before the gallery showcase. She wished he could wrap his arms around her now and give her a little kiss for encouragement. She could almost smell him, a wintry peppermint.

Lastly, Lucy thought of Max, and of her mother and father. She wished they could be here to see her now; strong, independent, determined. She wondered what they would think if they saw her now. She was living on her own terms with her own money, doing what she loved.

Lucy glanced up at the clock and sighed. She grabbed her brown leather clutch and tossed in her phone, some money, her house keys, and a compact mirror. Before leaving, she took one last glance at her apartment and flicked off the light.

The walk to the gallery was brisk. Lucy ignored the chill in the air and kept up a fast pace. She listened the methodic click of her heels and took long, cold breaths of air. She focused on the beat of her heart and reminded herself to stay calm.

The gallery was lit up, the glass windows revealing large groups of people huddled inside, holding glasses of wine and puffing on cigars. Lucy entered the gallery and felt the warm air hit her cheeks. She took in the smell of cigar smoke and relaxed a bit. A waiter handed her a glass of rich, red wine. Lucy toured the warm, sultry gallery. She marveled at the photography and the sculptures. The gallery itself was a work of art; rich red walls and dark wood floors. People chatted, a buzz of conversation filling the gallery.

Lucy spotted Roxie and Steve and gave them a wave. Roxie's smile grew tenfold and Steve gave her a simple, modest nod. Just as Lucy was about to approach them, she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.

"Excuse me, could it be that you are Ms. Lucy Levins?" she heard. Lucy spun around to find her eyes greeted with a handsome man, slightly older than herself. He was dressed quite fine in a handsome suit. He held what looked to be scotch in a glass in one large hand. His facial hair was neatly groomed and he had a delightfully devious smirk on his lips. He looked so familiar, but Lucy could not think of his name. She had seen him on a magazine cover or two, she was sure of it.

"Yes," Lucy sputtered nervously. The man's smile grew in size and he held out his hand.

"Tony Stark. It's a pleasure," he said in a sultry, smooth voice. Lucy felt her entire brain turn to mush.

Tony Stark…one of the richest, most intelligent men on the planet knew her name. He was standing right in front of her, shaking her hand like she was some sort of millionaire closing a deal with him. She felt butterflies flap around in her empty stomach with a vengeance.

What was he doing here? He should be off inventing some sort of new genius technology or saving the world. And why on Earth did he know her name?

"You're entirely prettier than I had imagined," he told her. Lucy felt her entire face turn a deep scarlet, hot to the touch. She grew conscious of every inch of her body, every strand of hair that was now standing straight up, and of course, her slightly agape mouth. She felt a hand slip on her lower back, a slight nudge leading her away from her exhibit.

"Thank you," she murmured, not entirely sure what to say. He sipped on his scotch and gave her a glance that made her head spin.

"A friend of mine showed me some of your work the other day and I must say, I'm charmed. My current living area is a bit…bland, and I would be thrilled if I could place one of your pieces in it," he said, his voice like warm chocolate, rich and sweet.

"I often do commissioned paintings. Tell me what you would like and we can agree on a price," Lucy said slowly, sure not to mix up her words.

"Excellent, that was what I was hoping for," Tony grinned. He placed his glass to his lips again, and Lucy noticed how handsome they were. She quickly dispelled all thoughts and remembered the only lips she cared for were Will's.

Come to think of it, she didn't see him anywhere.

"Would you like my business number? I'll most likely be free any time this week," Lucy said.

"No need, darling. I already have it," he said. "I look forward to seeing you again in the future, Ms. Levins."

And just like that, he departed, leaving Lucy alone again in the middle of the gallery. Lucy walked up and down the gallery and looked for Will. She didn't see him anywhere and began to worry a bit. Had something happened? Had he forgotten?

Her train of thought was interrupted by a sudden outburst of screams. She saw the smoke billowing, black and thick and smelled the burnt canvas. The mass of people began to push her through the narrow glass doors.

Lucy felt a tug on her shoulders and found Roxie right behind her, clinging to Steve. The three were forced from the building together as panic began to rise within Lucy. She was pushed out into the freezing cold, bitter and harsh. Roxie asked her what seemed to be a billion questions that Lucy droned out.

She was going to lose everything again.

Lucy began to fight from Roxie's grip as hysteria took over. Roxie gave her a wild look, but Lucy fought free, tossing Roxie to the side.

"Lucy, don't!" She heard Roxie scream. But she ignored her panic.

No, no no no. She could not let this happen to her again. First, she had lost her entire family and had some sort of curse forced upon her. She lost just about every friend she ever had. Then, her studio burned to a crisp, along with just about every painting she ever created.

Not another fire. Fire had taken everything she ever had in her life. She would not let fire ruin another painting of Will. She would not let fire ruin her only chance to save herself from murdering her own brother.

She fought through the crazed crowd, pushing through like a salmon swimming upstream. Men and women were so frantic, so driven to get as far as possible that they didn't question the girl running into the fire. Lucy felt her heart pound out of her chest, her body moving mechanically. Tears streamed down her face as she busted through the door. She felt the heat hit her face like a punch. Flames licked the back of her legs as she ran to her exhibit.

But it was too late. It was all burned and wrecked. The canvases melded to a giant mess on the floor. Lucy tried to breathe, but found the air to be thick with smoke. Her eyes stung with ferocity and her lungs burned. Coughs racked her entire body. Wildly, she tried to find a way out, regretting doing something as stupid as running into a burning building. She collapsed and buried her head in her hands. Tears streamed down her face.

_This is how I will die, _she told herself. She curled herself as small as possible. She felt flames enclosing on her. A thunderous jolt shook her entire body, a burning pillar falling mere inches away from her. But she didn't flinch a bit, because she didn't hear it fall.

She heard Max calling her name and the sound of crickets in the summer night. She tasted the raspberry jam her mother used to make all the time. She smelled the oil in her father's garage.

She felt an odd serenity take over. She was no longer afraid.

She saw Will's smile, his bright green eyes. She tasted his kiss and smelled sweet peppermint. She felt his two arms slip under her and carry her from the burning gallery.

"Will," she murmured.

But when she opened her eyes, it wasn't Will she saw. It was Steve Rogers, and he had saved her life.

* * *

Loki rounded the corner and peered in the glass windows of the gallery. He fingered the ticket tucked safely in his pocket. Just as he was about to enter, he felt a thousand tiny icicles stab his heart.

First he saw that oblivious Steve Rogers, glancing around the room like some lost, idiotic child. And then, that pompous Tony Stark, standing a bit too close to Lucy for comfort. He felt his anger come to a violent boil. He knew he couldn't enter the gallery without being discovered. He watched Lucy uncomfortably have a conversation with Tony Stark with a heavy heart. He lingered a few moments and watched her stroll around the gallery looking for something.

Looking for him.

Loki turned his back to the gallery. Truly, he wanted to be there for Lucy tonight. He wanted to see her at her happiest moment. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, let every poor bastard in the gallery know she was his. But he couldn't – not with two of those Avengers in there.

Just as he was about to leave, Loki felt another pang hit his stomach. There was a painting of himself in that gallery. If either of those Avengers saw it…

They would take Lucy from him for sure.

He slipped into the shadows of the alleyway beside the gallery. Both of those morons knew a basic description of him. They would know immediately that the picture was a portrayal of the man they were trying to capture. Lucy would be taken into SHIELD custody and questioned. They would tell her horrible stories of his deeds. She would believe every word they spat at her. She would be forced to give up his location.

But worst of all, she would no longer love him. He knew that with a dreadful certainty that hung in his stomach like a lead weight.

He knew what he had to do, but that didn't make it any easier. He spent a few moments arguing with himself, but he knew he had to destroy it, and quickly. He felt the guilt consume him as a man inside the gallery flicked his cigar a bit too close to Lucy's painting. Lucky for Loki, Lucy's exhibit was a bit out of the way. The painting caught fire quickly and began to spread like wildfire through the entire exhibit. As the mortals piled out, he found he could not stay any longer, too ashamed, too culpable of his own vile behavior. But he forced himself to watch until he saw Lucy. It was a relief when he saw her. She was frantic, but alive.

So naturally, he felt sick when he watched her run back in.

He wanted to save her. He wanted to run with her and carry her out. He wanted to be the knight that saved her life and brought her back to salvation. He wanted to heal her burns and tuck her into his bed. Truly, he wished he could save her, be she was beyond his grip, slowing slipping between his fingers. As long as those Avengers were there, he could do nothing. He was completely powerless and it made him sick.

But it was Steve Rogers that ran back in. It was Steve Rogers that carried her out. And it was Steve Rogers that saved her life.

Loki left before he went mad with jealousy.


	20. Chapter 19

**Well, it would seem we only have a few chapters left in this story. I'm thinking I will probably have the next chapter (which will be a doozy) out by tomorrow, and then the story will probably wrap up with a last few chapters. It's been quite fun, and if I end the story the way I intend to (since I don't plan chapters out, I just write) it is highly possible there will be a sequel. Regardless, thanks for the wonderful comments and enjoy!**

* * *

The television blared in Lucy's ears, repeating the exact same broadcast she had been hearing nonstop for twenty two hours. Why did she leave it on so loud again?

Oh yeah, to keep herself awake.

Her eyelids were heavy and swollen, but if she slept, she knew she would have another nightmare. She wasn't entirely sure how her dreams of the future related to her power, but they were there and that was all that mattered. And she didn't want to see the future anymore, because she knew it was nothing she wanted to see.

She remained perfectly still on the sofa and focused on the sound of her own heartbeat, her lungs expanding, the air rushing out of her mouth. She had spent close to a day in the hospital and she still felt the thick haze of those pills she took. Well, was forced to take. She knew very well what they were – sedatives. She supposed her stint in the hospital as the hysterical loon had been enough to label her temporarily insane. But what did they expect from her? Did they expect her to act like a lost soul? Sit there, passive and alone? Was she supposed to just take it?

She was so tired of sitting back. She was so tired of being weak and alone. She hated every part of herself that fell at the slightest budge of bad news. She wanted to be strong.

But she couldn't even make the call. Roxie had to do it. Lucy just made the command to kill her own brother, pull the plug. Somebody else had to carry it out. She was a big coward in the end. Didn't even get to see him one last time.

But Max had died a long time ago, and Lucy was finally starting to understand that.

In the sheer chance he did wake up, what exactly kind of world would he be welcomed in to? Things had changed while he had stayed so perfectly still. Time had forgotten him and instead wreaked havoc everywhere else. Wars had been waged and heroes had been created. He would wake up to a life he no longer belonged in, a world that had been shaped without him. It wouldn't have been fair.

Under the assumption he would wake up fully functional with his memory intact. Of course, with minimal grief that both his parents had been killed and he had missed out on a giant portion of his life.

The only hope Lucy had left was that the space he left behind was to be used by someone that actually needed it. All it did for Lucy was house her dead brother for a little over a decade.

But deep in her heart, she knew she would do anything to bring him back.

The television continued to drone on in a desperate attempt to entertain itself. Why did she leave that stupid thing on again?

Right. Keep herself awake – she had forgotten again.

Lucy craned her neck and was quickly blinded by the flashes from the new cast. Red embers raged across the screen as a pretty woman talked words Lucy didn't understand. If she really tried, she was pretty sure she saw herself, a small black smudge, run back into the building from an aerial view. It felt like such an enormous waste now, risking her life just to recover some of her measly paintings. The burns were minor, but still hurt as every rub of her cotton shirt.

And if she grit her teeth and forced herself to watch, she saw Steve Rogers carry her out in his arms. She remembered exactly how it felt; to feel the weight of everything crash down her, only to be weightlessly lifted from the burning gallery. She remembered exactly how she felt when she looked into his two true American blue eyes. And she remembered thinking "Why couldn't it have been Will?"

Or maybe she had said that, because he gave her an extremely peculiar look.

Lucy knew why it couldn't have been Will, it was really quite simple. See, you can't save someone when you don't show up to the scene of the accident. And if you don't show up to the accident, what's the point of a hospital visit, or even a simple phone call in the response to about eight frantic voicemails?

The voice of the news anchor shifted and Lucy felt her ears perk up.

"Another man has been found dead in a New York City dumpster. It is currently unknown whether the undentified body has anything to do with the deceased William Ecclesto –"

Lucy jumped up from the sofa, a dizziness settling into her brain. The screen flashed a ragged man with a dirty beard, two beady brown eyes, and round cheeks. Under the picture was a very familiar name to a very unfamiliar face. Lucy's brow knitted together in confusion.

"Both bodies seem to show a very similar MO – no external cuts, bruises, or signs of foul play. The investigation is ongoing."

Lucy wasn't sure if it was the drugs or a coincidence, but the William Eccleston she had met a month ago wasn't the man she saw on the screen. She felt a creeping sensation slither over her.

"Lucy."

Lucy jumped at the voice and turned around to a painful hit over the head. She felt her entire body throb with pain and she collapsed on the floor. Her head hit the hardwood with a thud. Her eyes met with a pair of boots. She slowly lifted her head and looked up.

"I'm so sorry it had to happen like this, little bird."

She opened her eyes to a wooden ceiling. At first, she stayed perfectly still, afraid to move an inch. Where the hell was she?

Light peered through the windows like an early morning sunrise. Carefully, Lucy turned her head to one side to find herself in a small room with a leaky sink. She was lying on a bed with a quilt over her. There was only one small window to her right, over the bed. A cool draft wafted from the old window. Lucy spotted a narrow door on the other side of the room. Silently, she crept across the room and twisted the doorknob.

Locked.

She pushed on the door to see if it budged, but it was locked shut. Wildly, she looked around the room. She found a wooden chair and lifted it from the ground. With every bit of power she had, she threw it against the door, which only groaned in response. Panic began to rise.

She began to hit the door like a human battering ram. Over and over until her shoulder bruised significantly. She fell to the floor panting. She was dizzy with exhaustion and her shoulder burned with pain.

The door slowly opened and there stood Will. He looked just as he had in her dreams, clad in ridiculous armor, a helmet of golden horns atop his head. Lucy crept backward until her back hit the frame of the bed. She felt her breathing spiral out of control.

"Little bird, so glad to see you awake. It's been a long day."

Lucy looked at his face, tired and haggard, sweat dripping down in ripples. Scratches and cuts marred his otherwise flawless skin. Dark bags hung under his beautiful green eyes. But they were empty, two green shallow pits filled with nothing. He lost the magnificent glow that usually radiated off of him.

"You've changed," Lucy whispered and she noted the air of disgust that radiated off him. She felt a mix of anger, fear, frustration strangle her senses. "What has happened to you, Will?"

"Do not call me Will, Lucy. We both know that is not my true identity," He said as he crept toward her. Lucy looked away, shaking in fear. "You are afraid of me, little bird. Do not fear, I will never harm you," he promised. He slipped his arms under hers and lifted her up onto the bed. Lucy sat still, but felt her body shake, out of her control.

"Who are you then? And what do you want with me?" Lucy asked behind clenched teeth.

"I am Loki, of Asgard. And I am burdened with glorious purpose. Perhaps I should explain, little bird. I come from very far away from a world called Asgard. I have come to this filth in order to restore greatness. In order to do so, I needed the Tesseract. And now that I have it fully under my control, I have come to claim you as my queen-"

"Queen? Queen of what exactly?" Lucy asked, her voice an octave higher than usual.

"Queen of Midgard, of Earth, little bird. Together, you and I shall rule this world and return it to glory."

Lucy gasped and shook her head. He was insane, out of his damn mind.

"You're…you're crazy," Lucy told him. "Delusional, nuts…" Lucy trailed off. She stood up and walked toward the door, about to run.

"Now Lucy dear, you know of your power, and yet you deny the existence of others? It cannot be that farfetched to accept that there are others with…talents."

Lucy froze. Slowly, she turned to face Will – no, Loki once again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lucy lied. Loki laughed coldly, sending shivers down Lucy's spine.

"You are quite a wretched liar, Lucy. Deception doesn't really suit you all too well. But I don't need you for deception, little bird. Perhaps a bit of destruction, but even that is questionable," He smirked.

"What do you want with me?" Lucy asked again, retracing her steps. She felt her fists clench, a sensation rising in her chest.

"I want you to rule, Lucy."

"Why? Why should I? Everything you've ever said to me was a lie. Every night we shared a bed was…was absolutely nothing to you. Why should I trust you, Loki? Why should I vie to share a throne with you?" Lucy asked, her tone verging on frenzied.

"That was never a lie, Lucy. I always cared very dearly for you," Loki said, his voice like a warm summer breeze. Lucy couldn't detect any deception in his statement. Still, she remained unwavering.

It was clear that something had gone terribly wrong in the past few hours. The man she had known and loved had transformed into a power hungry beast. He was a savage, yearning for power, for vengeance.

And Lucy wasn't so sure she could stop him alone.

"If you come with me Lucy, I will bring your brother to you,"

"My brother is dead!" she exclaimed. "I had to kill him because I didn't have the money to keep him alive!" Lucy screamed, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes.

"It's very easy to bring back what has been lost," Loki smirked. He glanced at a flower, wilted and dying. With a swipe of his hand, it perked right up, gaining back color into its delicate petals.

"How did you do that?" Lucy asked, hypnotized by the trick.

"There are many things I can do, Lucy."

Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew what she had to do.

"What happens now?" Lucy asked, sitting beside Loki. He turned to her, a glint in his eyes.

"I return to New York. You will be kept out of harm's way until the battle is over, and then we will claim this world as our own," he told her. He cradled her face in his hand, just as he had so many times before.

"Soon, we will be together, and no one will be able to stop us," he murmured. He kissed Lucy on the lips tenderly and departed.

Lucy waited several moments and then ran to the door. She pushed open the front door, dashing through the living area. She didn't know what she expected when she opened the door, but all she found was what seemed to be miles and miles of forest.

"Shit," she muttered.


	21. Chapter 20

**Hello my wonderful readers. This sadly is the last chapter of _Touch_. First off, I want to say a million thank yous to all of the wonderful readers who commented, favorited, subscribed, and simply enjoyed the first installment. Truly, this was a lot of fun to write, and really helped me to improve my writing. You all mean the world to me and provided the inspiration and drive to finish this story. Secondly, there will be a sequel, but I am taking a little time off to give myself a break and to plot out the sequel. If you could all tell me who your favorite Avenger is, I would be super appreciative, and yes, it WILL affect the sequel! (hint hint). I love you ALL and I hope you like the last chapter :)**

* * *

Lucy fell to her knees and placed her palms on the ground. Her mind was racing as a million different thoughts bombarded her senses. A very familiar one overcame her, and soon, she found herself vomiting. The acid burned her throat and left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

She felt a wave of emotions crash over her and force her to the ground, cheek against the dirt. She tried hard to breath, but found it impossible. She struggled against herself as she clawed the ground, kicking loose dirt up. She felt an overwhelming burning in her chest, as though she had swallowed a flame.

She tried to process everything that had just happened to her in a few hours time. Will…no Loki was like her, special, but not in the same way. He planned to take over New York City in some mysterious way, and then use his power to enslave the human race.

_Do I know how to pick them,_ Lucy thought to herself.

She was in some unknown forest in America…was she in America? Oh God, what if he had taken her to some far off country where no one speaks English? Panic burned her throat again, and she felt the familiar taste of throw up coat her mouth again. Her stomach protested with muscle aches from the violent purging.

_Pull it together Luce. You won't make it anywhere if you lay here in your own throw up, _Lucy commanded herself.

Gradually, she sat up, her legs folded under her. She had to think logically if she wanted to stop him. Letting her emotions get the best of her would only result in her lying on the ground with no sight, no hearing, and absolutely no ability to do anything productive.

She knew she had to stop Loki. She loved him, loved him more than anything in this world, or the other worlds she just recently discovered the existence of. He had held her tenderly throughout the longest nights of her life. He had filled the empty side of her bed, the empty part of her heart in a mere month or so. She had craved every touch, every kiss, every mere mutter that escaped his lips. He was unearthly, but Lucy always knew that, somewhere deep inside her. She knew that from the first dream she ever had of him, lying in the fresh snow like some sort of prince. Lucy couldn't imagine her life without Loki, even if most of it had been a lie.

No, she knew what she felt. She had to believe he loved her, or else all of this would be for nothing.

She knew she had to stop him. Lucy was fully aware that she might lose him, just like she had lost her parents, just like she had lost Max. But she could not watch Loki destroy the lives of innocents, just like hers had been. No one deserved that pain, not even the foulest human to ever step foot on Earth. Yes, it was a messy place to live, but the Earth was her home.

"Okay Luce, let's think of a plan," she told herself. "I'm in the middle of nowhere, presumably miles away from any form of civilization. My cell phone is nowhere to be found, and I'm wearing socks, fantastic," she muttered to herself.

Nothing good would come from standing aimlessly outside. She walked back into the cabin and ransacked the cupboards, the couch, the counters, and her bed for anything she could use. The entire shack was completely empty, except for a few cobwebs.

"Looking for something?"

Lucy felt her skin crawl. She turned to find a man, frightening not only in height, but appearance stand before her. He was clad in all black, a long black trench over him. His most peculiar characteristic was the eye patch slung across his face.

The recognizable feeling of dread filled Lucy. She grabbed her only weapon, a chair, and held it in front of her. She felt ringlets of sweat form on her hands, cold and clammy.

"I would really appreciate it if the next person who mysteriously shows up behind me would give me a warning call before scaring the shit out of me," Lucy yelled tensely.

Was this guy working for Loki? Was he going to make sure she didn't try to escape? He looked pretty menacing with his all black ensemble and the captain black beard eye patch.

"Did Loki send you here to babysit me? Because I'm not staying for long," Lucy threatened, even though she wasn't so sure she could back it up. She had one last ditch effort, if it came to that.

Well, it only happened once, but she was sure she could conjure it again. It was right after the accident, when her power began to develop. She had gotten worked up over something irrelevant. The stress of the death of her parents along with daily frustrations added up, and she snapped. She wasn't sure how it happened, but she emitted some sort of energy that blasted a hole right through her bedroom wall. She woke up in a haze and didn't remember much, but she felt exhausted after. It was like all her energy pooled right in her chest and exploded through her. She still didn't completely understand, but it had only happened once. After that, she tried to keep herself in check.

Truthfully, she had been terrified.

"I don't plan to stand around either, Lucy. I'm not here for Loki, in fact quite the opposite," the man said, walking closer. Lucy raised the chair a little higher.

The room grew tense. Lucy clenched her teeth, ready to spring if something happened. She couldn't explain the edge she felt, ready to do anything necessary to stay alive. This was something entirely new to her. She was terrified as always, but there was a bit of desperation surging through her now. She didn't want to die today, not like this.

"Then why are you here?" Lucy asked, her forearms starting to ache from holding the chair. She felt her body begin to shake, her muscles burning from staying so perfectly tensed for so long.

"I'm here to save your ass, now put down the chair," he ordered her.

Lucy wasn't sure what made her believe him, but she placed all four legs firmly on the floor. She didn't notice her heart was beating so fast, or the fact that her lungs burned for oxygen.

"Sit down, and let's talk a little," the man said as he grabbed a chair that Lucy hadn't even noticed, sitting in the corner. Carefully, Lucy sat down and folded her hands, clamping her fingers tight to stop them from shaking with fear.

"My name is Nick Fury, and I believe we have a common enemy-"

"Loki is not my enemy," Lucy interrupted with a surge of bravery.

Although he had imprisoned her, shackled her to some cottage in the middle of nowhere, Loki was not her enemy. She loved him, and she would be the one to stop his insanity, remind him that the only thing he needed was her, and vice versa.

"Well whatever the bastard is, we want to know what he's told you," Nick Fury said in a very commanding voice.

"Nothing you don't already know," Lucy responded in a combative tone.

She couldn't really explain it, but she felt a surge of power resting light on her shoulders. Her entire body felt light, feathery, and she began to breathe rhythmically. Despite the chaos, she felt quite relaxed.

"Lucy, just answer," she heard a chirpish voice tell her. Lucy spun around to find Roxie in a power stance: hands firmly on her hips, feet shoulder width apart, clad in a navy body suit.

The room took a dizzying tilt as reality began to sink in. Lucy felt stuck between two worlds; her seemingly normal life with Roxie and Steve and her gallery while her power and the love of her life tugged and pulled until the two met in a terrible harmony. Lucy flinched at the thought of both being one in the same – to escape to reality only to find fantasy. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, but most of all, she wanted it all to end.

"Roxie? Why are you here and what are you wearing?" Lucy sputtered out. "What the hell is going on here?" Lucy screamed, demanding a simple answer to the most confusing conundrum she had yet to face.

"Agent Barathen, you were told to hold perimeter-"

"Well the perimeter is holding well on its own here, but it seems to be collapsing elsewhere. We need to get moving."

Lucy was shocked by the maturity in Roxie's tone. This wasn't the Roxie Lucy had grown up with. It was not the same Roxie that collapsed on Lucy's couch every Saturday morning with a killer hangover.

Lucy became aware of a very disturbing fact; her life was one giant lie.

Her best friend was not her best friend. The love of her life was a deranged alien. The list went on much longer, but Lucy found she no longer cared about the specifics.

"No! I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what the hell is going on!" Lucy exploded. Roxie sighed and placed on hand firmly on Lucy's shoulder.

"Listen Luce, Loki is out to destroy everything we know. Our job," she said, pointing to herself and Nick Fury, "As SHIELD agents is to stop him."

"He's in control of a cosmic cube called the Tesseract. With the Tesseract he has planned to open up our world to the othersworlds that surround us, take the Earth as his, and reign for the rest of eternity."

"What will you do with him?" Lucy asked tersely, her teeth clenched together as firmly as possible.

"That is not up to us," Nick Fury said as he glanced at a piece of technology Lucy had never seen before.

"You won't kill him," Lucy said with authority. She felt a magnificent build up in her chest, her fingers burning with a pain she had yet to experience. Her warm brown eyes radiated with a hate that unnerved even Nick Fury. "I'll make sure you won't lay a finger-"

Lucy felt a prick right in her neck. A cool sensation tingled in her veins and she felt a numbness consume her. Her legs collapsed right from under her. Lucy's hands tingled until they lost all sensation. She found it hard to think, hard to breath, hard to do much of anything except get carried into an assault van.

"Well then, I guess it works quite well that you wish to get so involved. We'll be needing your participation very soon, Lucy."

A dull ring filled her ears. It wasn't like the usual ring that muted the outside world after she used her power…it was different.

She was forced into the back of a freezing van and into an uncomfortable metal chair built into the inside of the car. She rested her back against the hard metal and let her body slump, unable to fight the sedative they had injected her with.

Across from her sat Roxie. She kept her eyes on Lucy like she was some sort of criminal, cold and attentive. It gave Lucy the shivers to see her best friend turn into some drone.

"How long?" Lucy asked, her voice gruff. "How long have you been part of this organization?" Lucy asked, anger coming to a simmer.

"Since as long as I can remember," Roxie admitted, shrugging her shoulders a bit. Lucy laughed a sharp, sarcastic chuckle.

"So our entire friendship was a lie? Some plot, some stupid investigation." Lucy said in defeat. She hung her head and kept her eyes on her folded hands. It was just another defeat, another loss. It didn't really matter anymore.

"It had to be done, Lucy. You were in mortal danger for a significant part of your life," Roxie said, monotone and robotic. Lucy missed her usual energetic and sporadic bursts.

"Danger? What kind of danger could I get into? I'm no one," Lucy said with a bitter sigh. Truthfully, she was glad she was no one.

"You think the car crash your family perished in was an accident?" Roxie asked, a narcissistic tone in her voice. Lucy's ears perked up. She lifted her head and looked at Roxie; all five foot six, crossed armed, stern eyes of her, and shivered. Lucy tried to find reason, but she found she was unable to open her mouth.

Of course it had been an accident. Why would her parents have a hit on them? They were two typical citizens taking their two kids to a family party. They led normal, predictable, middle class lives. They groaned when they saw the bills in the mail, complained about the traffic in New York, badmouthed slippery politicians…ordinary things.

"I met your parents when I was very young. They were good people and even better agents," Roxie told her. The statement had been made to be comforting, but her voice sounded more like the buzz of a blender – harsh, unnerving, unwanted.

At first, Lucy didn't digest what Roxie said – just a string of unrelated words. But the meaning sunk in moments later and hit Lucy like a freight train, right in the pit of her stomach.

"Agents?" Lucy whispered, her brows knit in confusion. She tried to conjure enough moisture in her mouth to swallow the lump in her throat but found it to be impossible. Her palms began to sweat with confusion.

"You were meant for SHIELD, Lucy. Both you and Max were, its been in your destiny since your first breath. And now, you're fulfilling it-"

"And what if I don't want to 'fulfill my destiny'? What if I just want to be normal?" Lucy interjected, fighting the haze that had set in her bones.

"You have never been normal, Lucy. You're the only one who can bring Loki to justice now. You have power over him, as well as power over all of us," Roxie told her, a certainty in her words that Lucy wasn't so sure about.

"And what if I don't? What if I protect him, or join him, or hell, run away with him? I do love him," Lucy proposed, trying to fight with the only arsenal she had – wit.

"Because I know you Lucy. You're the hero type, always have been. So selfless it almost makes me sick. I could predict what you would do in any given situation," Roxie concluded, sure of her deduction.

Lucy chuckled bitterly. She shook her head, a hint of a grimace resting heavy on her lips.

"Wish I could say the same about you," Lucy muttered.

Lucy was jolted awake by the sound of destruction. She could smell the haunting odor of carnage, her nostrils trained to shudder at the smallest sniff.

She wasn't ready for what she saw when she was shoved from the van. The monstrous skyscrapers she used to crane her neck to see were tumbling all around her, burning with a defeated ferocity. Hundreds of men, women, and children darted, trying to find cover from the bullets and fire raining down from the sky like snow. Parts of the street were ripped and torn from the ground. Bodies were strewn like meaningless flyers for a live band at the nearest bar. Whole cars were left to sit ripped apart like scrap metal in a junk yard. The smell of burning flesh, of melted rubber, of death.

It was all too familiar to Lucy.

Lucy looked up at the sky, littered with silver bullets with odd, robotic _things _mounted on top. Clouds were replaced with billowing black smoke, burning Lucy's lungs as well as her dark, wide eyes. She didn't want to do this anymore; be the hero. She wanted to go home.

And then the reality hit her – she was home.

Lucy glanced back at Roxie, who gave her an assertive nod. Lucy patted her bullet proof vest as if it would vanish at any moment. Her entire life, Lucy had been filled with emotion until she thought she would burst, quite literally. Every action had a range of emotional reaction. She found herself unable to get close to a person, both figuratively and literally, before having to carry their emotions on her back like a boulder.

But as she walked, yes walked, into the pit of destruction, she felt emotionless, numb, and dead.

She walked with a heavy step, just as she imagined John Wayne would walk as he faced death in the form of a game of Russian roulette. She didn't really see a point in running anyway. She had run most of her life, and where had it gotten her? No, this time she would walk. She would trot along until something got in her way, and then she would die. It was as simple as that.

Lucy figured that if she could feel that she would probably be terrified of dying. But what did she have to live for anyway? Her best friend? Her brother? Her one and only love?

She held back a snort at her newfound pessimism that found a home where her heart used to be; all nestled warm and cozy right in her chest, fit perfectly like the puzzle piece she had been looking for all these years.

Lucy didn't flinch at the barrage of gunfire that aimed to mow her down. She only flinched when the rubble from a nearby building fell inches from her. She barely felt a twinge of guilt as people begged for attention. This was all just a dream now, and she would treat it as such. Soon, it would all be over.

A sharp, burning pain hit the back of her leg in a sudden burst. Lucy stumbled to the ground as sweat began to form on her forehead. She groaned at the burning sensation and bit her lip, trying not to scream. She looked down to find blood dripping and what looked to be some sort of hole torn open in her calf. With a shaking hand, Lucy applied pressure to the wound and let her fingers burn with an electric twinge. The pain flooded from her, and she stood once again. The wound wasn't healed, but it no longer hurt.

Her fingers kept buzzing with power as she continued to walk where her instincts told her. She felt the familiar dread of Loki she felt the first few times she had encountered him. Her mouth filled with a familiar sour taste and her head continued to pound. Her leg began to drag behind her, but with no sensation of pain, Lucy didn't really notice.

It was all a dream. It would be over soon.

Waves of fire beat down behind her, the heat swallowing her whole. She ignored that too, but felt a bit disgusted as sweat rolled down her back in thick ringlets. An especially strong burst of her sent her to the ground as bells ringed in her ears. It didn't hit her until her face collided with broken pavement that it had actually been an explosion. The weight of broken rock and rubble hit her hard and trapped her. She began to feel the sharp, jagged rock jutting into her skin. The pain was unbearable.

It became very dark for a while. For several moments, Lucy was caught between the deep sleep and utter ache and consciousness.

_Get up_ She told herself over and over until the words sounded funny in her head. Like a blur of sounds with no meaning. A horn blowing in her mind.

She started to feel panic as she tried to dig her way out. She started grabbing pieces of rock, clawing and kicking. Her fingers began to hurt and bleed all over the place, but she kept wriggling. It felt like hours that she was digging and she began to find it hard to breath.

She felt her strength multiply as a beam of light forced its way into the rubble. Lucy fought harder until she made an opening big enough to fit her shoulders through. She forced herself out, cutting open her arms and legs on the way out. She stumbled to the ground and was attacked by cries of pain from the others around her.

She had seen this all before, in her dreams. And just like before, she heard Loki call out.

"Lucy darling."

Slowly, Lucy turned to find Loki dressed in his outlandish garb. If she hadn't just been buried under what looked to be part of the empire state building, maybe she would've laughed.

"Will," Lucy murmured instinctively. She clamped her lips together as she remembered it wasn't Will that stood in front of her. No, it was someone much different.

"We both know that is not my true identity, little bird. Now please tell me how you ended up here," Loki whispered as he walked closer with each step.

"I hitched a ride with an old friend," Lucy said with a smile. She liked this oddly witty side of her.

He looked absolutely terrible. His flawless skin was cut up and bruised. His normally perfect jet black hair was in a state of disarray. His face was grim and determined, reminiscent of her mother's when she would stare out the window for hours. He had an air of self important around him and reeked of, well, anger, hatred, _evil_.

Lucy's heart ached with sadness. She wanted to badly to hold him, kiss him, love him. But she knew that those days were gone, never to return.

"Come Lucy, it's time to go home now. This is no place for my queen," Loki smirked. He placed a hand on Lucy's back and gave a bit of a shove. But Lucy kept her feet planted on the ground as though they had been nailed there.

"And where exactly is home?" She asked, tears burning her eyes. She could never quite understand what it was about Loki that sent her into an emotional battle. Just moments ago she was ready to die, and now she wanted nothing more than to live.

"Home is with me," Loki told her, swooping down, close to her face. "Home is us."

Lucy wanted so badly to believe it. That they could go along on their merry way and she could turn a blind eye to the destruction of New York City. If she wasn't the hero type, if she wasn't so selfless it almost made Roxie sick, she would've.

But her destiny had been written before her first breath.

"I can't go with you," Lucy said, defeated. "You have to end this Loki."

Loki looked at her, his eyes filled with absolute hatred. Lucy felt the influx of pure abhorrence and disgust flow into her like a river. He was filled with it, bursting at the seams.

It terrified her.

"It saddens me greatly to do this Lucy, but I see no other viable option," Loki said, with some fake sympathy slapped on his face. He lifted his scepter and pressed the sharp edge to Lucy's chest, stabbing her.

She felt nothing at all. Not a single thought went through her head as pure energy enveloped them both. Simultaneously, both Loki and Lucy were launched in separate directions. Her back smacked into something hard and she slumped to the ground. Her hands tingled with static and she began to lose her sight. Her ears filled with a high pitched screaming, and she felt nothing.

She closed her eyes and waited for something to happen. She waited for the sensation to pass.

As Lucy lay dying, Tony Stark plummeted from space. Bruce Banner tried to keep his sanity. Steve Rogers and Thor Odinson threw everything they could at the enemy. Clint Barton kept a watchful eye over the crumbling city. Natasha Romanoff fought desperately to find a way to end it all.

And Loki stood up and walked calmly away from the carnage. He truly appreciated the burst of power from Lucy, who hadn't even noticed she had made such a charitable donation. Her last breath, her last words, her _everything_.

Lucy remained still, her chest no longer rising, her eyes unblinking. Blood stopped rushing through her veins and her heart stopped quivering.

She was dead.

She was dead for a long time. Lucy was aware of it as she was stuck in darkness, as lies she used to categorize as memories flashed through her mind in montage. She liked the darkness, she had to admit. Not a single sound buzzed through her ears. Not a single ache racked her bones.

She felt calm, she felt at peace.

She was medically dead for about ten minutes, but in that dark place, it felt like a thousand eternities. For the first hundred, she decided she was supposed to be here. It was her time to die, and that was…okay. In the dark place, she didn't have to face every lie, every assumption she had falsely lived under for so long. She didn't have to feel the heartache of lost love. She didn't have to mourn her brother, who was also in the dark place.

But after a while, the silence unnerved her. She grew wary that even her heart was silenced. She wanted to leave, but found she didn't know how.

It was all a dream. It was over now.

But it wasn't really, not for good. Because when the fiery Russian spy finally got her hands on the scepter and closed the hole in the sky, Lucy was given her second chance.

See, her and the Tesseract weren't all that different. Vessels of power. And when one vessel went out, and the other was threatened, one went fleeing for safety. A vacancy had been made, room was to be spared.

It wasn't instant. The Tesseract searched for viable options for quite some time. The two odds didn't meet each other until Lucy was found dead by the distraught Steve Rogers. She was lifted from the ground, limp and cut up like a raw piece of meat. Steve felt quite unnerved as he big, glassy brown eyes looked up at him, her mouth agape.

He had known her. She had been a lovely girl. He thought he would've probably liked her if he had gotten to know her better. And now she was nothing but decaying flesh.

Steve Rogers wasn't sure where he was taking her, but he carried her all the way to the ends of New York, where he found Agent Barathen. He didn't want to leave her to die like the rest. He wanted to see her dressed and buried, like every good soldier deserved. He didn't know she was waiting for resurrection.

She was hooked up to thousands of machines. They didn't know how long she had been dead. Perhaps mere seconds had passed and she could be revived with modern technology. Steve had seen weirder things before. His life was filled with bizarre occurrences.

The pain hit her hard, right in the chest like a beam of lightning. She woke up to a dozen men and women standing around her, electric shocks hitting her right in the chest. She grabbed an arm tightly and screamed in pain, blooding and bruised. Flashes of light burned her retinas, sounds bombarded her and hurt her ears as well as her head. The air tasted salty and burned her lungs. She imagined this is what new born babies felt when they left their dark place.

The doctors called it a miracle, but it was no miracle.

It was fate.

End Book 1


End file.
